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Write about a character reminiscing over something they should have said, and how their life would be completely different had they said it.

Posted in Sad on Nov 11, 2022

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✍️ 62 stories

Apples and Trees

Winner of Contest #172 🏆

Mom works. She never picks me up from school, and two miles is too close for a bus pickup, which is fine by me because I like cutting through the woods. Especially on autumn days, when the air is cool, and the flies and mosquitos are gone, and basketball practice hasn’t begun. I like the quiet. I like the wordlessness of the walk. A pretty sugar maple dressed in vivid orange frills beckons me off the path. I stand to look at her. I sound like a weirdo, I know. A sixteen-year-old boy calling a sugar maple pretty. It was Dad that taught me to ...

239 likes 247 comments 247
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I'll Drive

Submitted to Contest #172

TW: themes of suicide, child loss, grief, swearing.Dear Avery Family,There are no wordsHow are you?I’m sorryIt has been 1,819 days since both of our lives were shattered.This is the last letter I will ever write, and I am writing it to you.I am writing to you because I need you to know that Andrew did not kill your son.I did.I have carried this guilt around with me for nearly five years, and now with the anniversary approaching, I can feel the energy building up again. Every year I am ripped apart by grief and guilt, and this year it has fin...

37 likes 29 comments 29
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Poetry for the Epilogue

Submitted to Contest #172

Bertram Fitzgerald never found out I wrote him poetry. Across the street, Bertram would work at his typewriter. He would churn out articles all about the impending war. I pictured steam coming off the keys. Puffs of smoke wafting from the “W” and the “A” and the “R” and all the other letters that make up words like “barrage” and “tyranny.” His articles always appeared in the Gazette on Wednesday’s and Friday’s. I would be the first in line at the newsstand holding out a quarter. Sometimes I would commit his words to memory. To this day, I ...

31 likes 21 comments 21
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Driving East in the Evening

Submitted to Contest #172

James was driving east, sunsetting in the rear-view mirror. The street he had driven along, every day for the last three decades, was rapidly receding, watched over by the blood-shot eye of the weary sun. Accelerating, he had the uncomfortable feeling it was staring right at him. He pulled his gaze back to the darkening road ahead, passing his old college, keeping his eyes dead ahead as he drove past the office, memories of his retirement party bursting into his mind like the streamers they had thrown, thanking him for all those years of loy...

31 likes 28 comments 28
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A Sober Thought

Shortlisted for Contest #172 ⭐️

“My name is Alvaro Vasquez and I am an alcoholic.”   About twenty solemn eyes were fixated on me as I forced the last hard ‘c’ out of my mouth and sat back down. A chorus of “Hi Alvaro” met my ears as my bottom met the cool metal of probably the most uncomfortable chairs I’d ever sat on. If their purpose was to get you to stay here, I’d imagine they’d have seating more pleasing to my ass. Oops, I thought. My daughter had always said I should curb my habit of swearing every couple of sentences. I had zoned out of my third Al Anon sessi...

29 likes 8 comments 8
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6:63

Submitted to Contest #172

As the earth embraces my flesh, I can’t help but recall the moment of your birth.  (I’m writing this letter as I lie dead. Of course, this cannot be a physical letter, but rather a metaphysical one. You’ve always had a penchant for the abstract. I only hope you can read my handwriting. Please understand— it is rather difficult to maintain good penmanship when one no longer has a sentient body.)  I’ve always derived a certain sense of satisfaction from living my life in multiples of three. You were born at exactly three past s...

26 likes 2 comments 2
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If

Submitted to Contest #172

It was a little after midnight, the snow was lightly falling, frosting the ground with cold, sugary powder. The night was cloaked in a thick layer of darkness, yet the moon was ever so slightly luminescent against the sky. It seemed to him he was in a dream; it was the perfect aesthetic for reminiscing. And so he did. He reminisced…and images of her flooded his quiet cogitations.  It was late October, cool and breezy. School was bumpy and rough, and life seemed boring. He was the bag boy at the local grocer and going through the mo...

24 likes 1 comment 1
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The Deadline

Submitted to Contest #172

Regrets? I’ve had a few. What about love? That never lasts long.Are you certain about that? No, but I know regret lasts forever.Maybe your love was too perfect to be true? That’s possible, but what’s your point?You should’ve told her how you felt.You make it sound so simple.#We’d only known each other for three weeks before we started living together. I fell in love with Madeline without thinking it through and I think she just she went along with it. It was like two lost pieces of a jigsaw when we came tog...

20 likes 8 comments 8
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Sunday Funday

Submitted to Contest #172

It was times like this when Danielle would let her mind wander, inching its way back to an evening that had been ripe with possibility, with chances. Actually, it wasn’t just times like this. It wasn’t just on days when Alec was drunk and maudlin, or the nights when he didn’t come home and she lay awake, her bleary eyes trained to the window, waiting for his headlights. It wasn’t only in the scary moments, when he reminded her that every aspect of her cushy lifestyle was because of him. It wasn’t just the moments when she found hotel key c...

20 likes 3 comments 3
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Hearts and Hunters

Submitted to Contest #172

Honesty is the best policy, but only by default. It is the least worst option. This applies not only to politics, historical inquiry, business deals and game shows, but also, agonizingly enough, to matters of the heart. Walter Pendrick learnt this the hard way. If, on one very fateful occasion, he’d honestly expressed his feelings, the dreary morass of his later life may have been very different. I Detest You. Three little words—in Walter’s case barely making up three syllables—which, with the possible exception of the second word, trip so...

19 likes 15 comments 15
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Why Can't We Rewind?

Submitted to Contest #172

Why can't we rewind time? The purpose is unknown. God has a plan they say. Mistakes lead to growth. Most would use time like soap to clean. We choose our path although others disagree. We throw ourselves into situations and neglect the rest. Proceed with life and abandon the consequence.Some would try to use a defibrillator to spark love again. Give life to death as would any friend.Some would become rich and offer bullshit to recommend. Screw the system and claim it's to defend.Some would just come clean and do things right instead. Abandon...

16 likes 6 comments 6
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A MAN'S LIFE

Submitted to Contest #172

As the horticulturist could predict the type of defective flower emanating from a diseased and desiccated seed, the life course of a man could be equally reckoned by observing his beginnings. Jim Tomlinson, a wreck of a man, had chosen the wrong parents, and thereby suffered the consequences. His father was a capricious and jealous old goat, prone to sudden explosions of violence and abuse, with alcohol often the accelerant. His mother was a broken woman, having long ago abandoned any thought of a normal, good life. Her greatest pleasures no...

16 likes 12 comments 12
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Bliss or Tragedy

Submitted to Contest #172

I look down and can‘t help but be afraid of the fall. It‘s higher than I initially thought and yet, at the same time, not high enough. How many seconds would someone fall until they hit the ground? And, on the way down, would that person wish it to be longer? What would someone in that situation think about? Or would it be the first time they didn‘t? Would it be bliss or a tragedy? I look up. It is a beautiful day. The perfect day, really, but when I close my eyes I can‘t hear the birds chirping or the river hundreds of feet below. I can‘t f...

13 likes 3 comments 3
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Maybe More

Submitted to Contest #172

Maybe More The road was foggy, and Jack was exhausted, but he had a Thanksgiving dinner to get to at his parent’s house. Thanksgiving and Christmas were the only times he ever went back to see his family anymore. He was fresh off of work. Cleaning toilets for a living was not exactly a prestigious job, but at least it paid for his one-bedroom apartment. It was late Wednesday night, and if he drove straight through he should be able to be there by midnight. He had to drive straight through, he couldn’t afford a hotel. He stopped at a rest...

13 likes 1 comment 1
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Unexpected

Submitted to Contest #172

The sky was gray and cloudy. And the man hanging out under the pantheon wore a trench coat and hat. I was nervous to meet him.  He would tell me what happened to Todd. The man I used to meet at the cafe with the lights that glowed warm like the sun. The man I was considering marrying if he said he wanted to. The one who replaced my memories and fears of past relationships with a gentle laugh and twinkling eyes.  I had been setting aside the memories because Todd has been missing for a week. His mysterious two week long trip has...

12 likes 2 comments 2
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