50 Word Stories: With Regret

And though we welcomed them with arms open, a smile creasing our desperate faces, they shunned us. 

And though we offered food, lodgings, the comforts of home, they spurned our genuine invitations.

And we regretted our recklessness, our hopes and shared loves.

Were they our children? What had we made?



I live for the delicate moments those brief instances of bliss. Some call them the simple things, God’s sweet freedoms, the touch of a snowflake on a chapped cheek, perhaps, a butterfly’s wing transparent against the sun. A perfect memory lost to time, we count them differently to life’s tedium. Delicacy can last until you blink, replace your book on its dusty shelf, or until your car enters the tunnel that blanks out a view. These are the things I speak of, and we all have many. For me, this moment was you, so delicate a creature as to break before I could hold your hand. I regret you being so delicate, or my being so clumsy.

The Hurricane and the Wind

We left as lovers lost in a storm of unkempt emotions. Such was the way with the hurricane and the wind. We blew across the world elemental in our excesses. We didn’t care; we were free. Like bottled cyclones, we span around in translucent circles, the world at our feet and the sky out of reach. We tried though. We tried.When the tears came like a storm of all our losses, from us both, yes, us both, I faltered. You smashed against the barriers like the tempest you were, whilst I blew out. Not a breath had I left by the end, not a one. Home was my last gasp. Infinity were your gusts. We were incompatible really; I know that now. The hurricane and the wind, two that were one, they called us. We just never knew it until we’d both blown away.

The Once Lovers


Yes, we were lovers, you and I. The spring knew us as the dawn on a dewy meadow, summer as a sun-kissed sky. Winter was warmer for our passion, the snow never settling, the winds not wild just free. In autumn, leaves fell around us as confetti at a wedding that would never be. We lasted a year though muddled seemed the seasons. We lasted a year though they claimed we’d not last a day. Ours was everything and everything was ours, and I couldn’t have been happier if the universe had taken me then to play amongst the stars. No, I do not regret this though I regret much. You gifted me with the most beautiful year of my life, then cursed me with the vacant rest.

So, my friend, you ask again, persist in your questioning, ‘Do I regret it?’

I raise my eyes to a cloud-filled sky and repeat that which I have told myself a million times or more, ‘I don’t regret our love just that we were once lovers.’

Lost Words Gone

Wandering in starless circles
Pull the sheets up
Take a breath
Plunge into sweet oblivion, again
And let the blood run freely
Pool in patches of what I was
Rivulets of a lesser life
Crimson reminders unseen in the dark
Blacker than black this ex-me
Hate running deeper in the night
Eyes screw up tighter, lock
Don't wake
I don't want to wake
I am awake
To this lie
To this waste of lost words gone
And the reality
That I never slept at all

Falling Fallen Fall

Ungraceful, I fell,
a tumbling decline,
thunder in my heels and
lightning in my eyes.
That flirtation with gravity
unbecoming; the great equaliser,
less than a bird, more than a bat.
Time, they said: to think;
to weep; to pray.
But as I plummeted
the ground closing like an opened eye,
I had but one thought,
one only:
How the falling Fallen fall.