The Unicorn Challenge.
A magical new weekly writing opportunity from her – Jenne Gray – and me.
Visit her blog every Friday to see the photo prompt, and post your amazing story in her comments section.
Or on your own blog, and stick the link down in her comments.
The rules are:
Maximum of 250 words.
Based on photo prompt.
That’s it.
To hear me read my story, just click here:
Judgement Day
I’ve had a pretty good life.
I don’t mean that I’ve always been a good person.
I haven’t.
But I was seldom malicious.
More selfish, I’d say.
So when people talk about Judgement Day, I kinda shrug.
I don’t believe that, at the end of our time, we’ll have to stand in front of an archangel or a dominie holding a wee black book – or maybe a huge bliddy tome – containing details of all our faults, flaws and failings.
And condemning us for being human.
Hell, life’s too short to worry about stuff like that.
I mean, I know I could have been a better father.
And I could hardly have been a worse husband.
But we all make bad decisions sometimes, don’t we?
My wife did, when she married me.
I didn’t, when I married her.
Now, when I reflect on my life, I’m surprised at some of the choices I made.
I guess my path wasn’t always the logical one, just the one I chose to follow at that specific time.
I lived my life, travelled, had some adventures.
That’s what I mean when I say ‘a pretty good life’.
Do I have any regrets?
Not for how I lived my life.
But perhaps for the outcome.
You see, now I’m old.
I’m dying.
And I’m alone.
So I understand I’ll die alone.
And I doubt if many people will know, or care.
Ah, well.
I’ve had a pretty good life.
I don’t know. Does it really matter is you die alone? Rhetorical, by the way. There is a very good chance that I will. I live alone, I am in my car alone, most of the time. Most likely I will die in one of those places. But I’m not ready yet, so I will think about that later.
Why is that wretched Sinatra song playing in my mind? I often reflect on the fact that my life would have been very dull had I followed the route of one job, one wife, one week the same as the last, etcetera. We did it our way! I hope you are still alive and kicking right now, otherwise, I’ve just wasted two valuable minutes of what time I have left!
Something to think about in every sentence of this. My favourite bit is this: ‘Now, when I reflect on my life, I’m surprised at some of the choices I made.’ This really resonated with me. It’s a better way of thinking about some of our choices than regretting them. To regret is itself a choice, perhaps.
Your narrator has learned self-acceptance, and that’s a big one. Thanks for this great story.
Thank you, Margaret, for this beautifully considered and very kind comment.
As I’ve said elsewhere, when a short piece provokes so much thought, I feel that my time was well spent.
I was about to say, “jenne says it best in her comment…” when I remembered an admonition from the dark hallways of bloghops past* and my fingers froze. I looked around the page and lo and behold, this seair fellow said it perfectly,
<em>We all choose our path, although not always the destination.</em>
damn! Tell me that’s your own.
Be that as it may, your ‘throw away’ adage resonates with me as much as your story.
*is that past or passed…both sound right
Laughing.
I do believe that throwaway comment is my own, Clark, though I’m a bit hurt that it carried as much weight with you as my laboriously crafted story!
But thank you, regardless.
*past is correct here
There’s a whole lot to think about in these couple hundred or so words. Especially as the poem nears its end. They say we all die alone and I guess that’s ok, no one really knows anything about it so why worry, huh? I’m sure there’ll be a guide or something. But dying along is kind of a weird and sad thought.
Glad you found something to ponder, Michael, although, incidentally, I don’t consider it a poem.
We all have different beliefs, but I think dying is dying, and the company at the end is kind of irrelevant.
I don’t disagree with that. Aside from the typo in the last sentence, my comment was kind of unclear. Dying is dying, it’ll be what it’ll be, but being alone in the process leading up to the dying strikes me as kind of sad.
I understand your view, Michael, but for the narrator, who has made his life choices, it is a matter of indifference.
I was trying to figure out why I don’t like this guy — because there’s a little twinge of sympathy for him at the end of his life — but I think it’s these two lines:
“I could hardly have been a worse husband.”
and then, “Do I have any regrets?
Not for how I lived my life.”
I want to give him a good shake and yell, “You should have treated her better!”
I understand that, Sally, and couldn’t agree more.
But he’s flawed, as are most of us.
Yes, we are all so very flawed! I think that my reaction — my dislike of your character— is a sign of a well-written piece.
If a short piece provokes that sort of reaction, Sally, then I am content!
For some reason WP is not letting me comment.
Oh, so now it is. The Little Sparrow had it right. ‘Je ne regrette rien’ Lots to identify with here. Bon chance.
Pretty good is never good enough.
Au contraire, chère madame, in Scotspeak ‘Pretty good’ ranks just behind ‘Not bad’ in terms of the highest praise.
We tend to be less bombastic than our colonial cousins (or southern neighbours), preferring to express ourselves with the use of litotes.
Thank you, as always, for visiting and commenting.
“The first known mention of litotes is in a letter”
Which of course means that I had to google the word. Which of course means I should just giggle at your posts instead of commenting. Then I wouldn’t need to google.
Ah, a day in the life of a dying man.
Someone said from the day we’re born, we’re all dying.
We die too long and live too short, CE; there’s little room for regrets.
Absobliddylutely, Nancy.
Regrets suggest a failure to have lived.
As a lesser-known man of blue-eyed distinction once said: “Regrets, I’ve had a few but, then again, too few to mention.”
Your writing is superb, as always.
You show this character’s acceptance of his life and resignation to his fate in a calm and understated way that mirrors the content.
If I was in charge of the world – which happily I’m not, it’s in enough of a mess as it is – there would be a rule: nobody dies alone unless they want to.
We all choose our path, although not always the destination.
C’est la vie.
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I’m pretty happy with that, CE
I smiled at the song – just a tiny snippet
Me too, Chris.
And yes, a great song, maybe even their best.
It’s a great song alright, but I’m not sure it’s possible to pick a ‘best’?