Sneeze First, Regret Later

I flew to New York for a ten-day vacation, feeling as healthy as a horse. On the plane, I sat next to a man who kept coughing. At one point, he sneezed on my arm. Within two days, I was sick with fever, nasal congestion, headaches, body aches, and vomiting. The rest of my vacation was a blur of naps and short outings under heavy medication. When I boarded the plane home ten days later, guess who was sitting in the same row, smiling at me? Swallowing my rage to avoid being kicked off the plane became my biggest accomplishment.

From Guest Contributor Zoé Mahfouz

When Cupid Calls

They laugh their boisterous laughs, holding hands with Pride seated in the gaps between their knuckles. Butterflies overflow their love-struck hearts and they try their best not to erupt in a bashful fit of giggles. He looks at her like she is all the world's treasures in one. And she looks at him like he’s everything her heart has ever yearned for.

Then they leave the room, white with Shame, hands still clumsily interlocked. But with preening eyes, tugging hearts and Cupid calling them away to the gaze of their secret lovers.

Oh, how first love always ends in regret.

From Guest Contributor Mahathi Sathish

In Which I Confront Name Regret

The sun was just a faint red ember in an ashen sky when I stepped onto the swaying boat. “A poet,” as Paul Celan observed before his second suicide attempt, “is a pirate.” I felt a kind of guilty freedom to be maneuvering the boat above the rush-hour streets. If only I had had a Jolly Roger! Behind the boat, I pulled a net that was soon full of strange new words for things. My pursuers cursed and cried and complained bitterly of fatigue and stress and vast distances. “Oh yeah?” I said. “Try going through life as a Howard.”From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author of more than a dozen poetry collections, including most recently Gunmetal Sky (Thirty West Publishing).

Keeping It Together

Option 1: The books I’ve read on the left hand side, those I haven’t on the right hand side.

Option 2: From top to bottom arranged by colour, following the colour sequence of the rainbow.

First, the daily routine: checking the updates, every day at the same time, hoping they announce that during the past 24 hours there were no fatalities to regret, no one was admitted to hospital and all those that have been – even those in Intensive Care – were allowed to leave. But that didn’t happen today. Today, I try keeping it together by choosing between two options.

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé SUYS (°1968 – Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and hasn’t stopped since.

The Turning Point

The crash jolted them awake, as they careened into the seats in front of them. Later, the doctors would say that the fact they'd been asleep upon impact is what saved them. 27 dead, only two survivors.

The siblings would always look back at that bus crash as the turning point. Not the decision to run away, not what they were running away from, but the accident that sent them to the hospital, months of rehabilitation, and then life in a foster home.

For Megan, it was the perfect escape. For Matthew, he'd forever regret not having died that night.

Just A Dream

It was just a dream.

One night, years ago, I killed a man in a fit of rage. I immediately felt regret. What if I were caught?

Waking up was a relief.

The next night, I returned to face the aftermath of my nocturnal crime. I was arrested. I stood trial. I was sentenced to life in prison.

This was not over a single evening. It was an episodic nightmare that I returned to repeatedly. I forced myself to stay awake in order to avoid the inevitable but eventually the inevitable won out.

Was it real? It really didn't matter.

Preventing Regret

The road was empty at two in the morning and felt like a different world.

“We should…go to the strip club...” Jim said slurring his words.

“I don't know,” I replied. “His wife would kill him. He’d probably screw up.”

“It’s coming up…Just…take us.”

“I’m not so certain.”

“Drop me off and I’ll…I’ll Uber home.”

He hit my arm and pointed. I fiddled through every pre-set radio station.

“Looks like we missed it,” I said.

Two days later we were golfing.

“Thanks for not leaving me there the other night.”

“I didn’t think you remembered that.”

From Guest Contributor Steve Colori

Regret

I freeze at the crossing, not because of the cold, but at how a stranger walks.

Even the musculature of her legs reminds me of Sandy. For a moment her profile ensnares my heart. Then she looks in my direction, questioning without expecting an answer. She doesn’t break stride.

We’d made a pact to run away together: escape doldrums and parental tyranny...to find adventure in The City. We’d agreed to rendezvous here. I’d been waiting more than an hour.

I set off alone, annoyed when her name escaped my lips; and admonished myself that I never really knew her.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Homecoming

Years of content memories awaited familiar arms. Angel wings brushed bedposts softly, listening for command. Good-byes graciously accepted. Passing without fear, anticipating this new journey, unknown. Each shallow breath now numbered, every fragile heartbeat heard. Yesterdays spent letting go of earthly things and people deeply loved. Words need not be spoken, it was understood. No sorrow or regret. She would miss them, but only for awhile. Withered hands smiled, soothing random tears. No pain present, peace her blanket. Voices heard yet distant, creased lips pressed in prayer. Fading eyes searched light, bent fingers directed misplaced hair. Would he recognize her?

From Guest Contributor Christy Schuld

The Songbird

There's a songbird outside my house that knows the tune to every standard of the last fifty years. He drives me crazy.

He never stops singing, not while I'm at home anyway. How sexually frustrated does this bird have to be to tweet Paul Simon and Barry Manilow all day long? Visitors find him quaint and always want to take video, and then they make me watch their posts on YouTube. I'm thinking of shooting myself.

He says he'll keep at it until I do, because of how I shot his wife last winter. It's a decision I regret now.