55 Fiction: Regret


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I was the best actor and yet, the only one with no parent in the audience. I couldn’t blame my dead mum. How I wished she were alive to see me. Dad thought my craft was useless.

Decades later, as an orphan sifting through his belongings, I found photos to every play I’d starred in.

***Linking up with Write Tribe for 55 on Friday***

Until next time,


27 thoughts on “55 Fiction: Regret

  1. Mi says:

    Aww… sometimes there is always a gap in expression, between parents and children, and one misunderstands, unnecessarily. This one was good! 🙂 Crisp and to the point! 🙂

  2. Damaria Senne says:

    You packed a lot of story into those few lines. Made me wonder about so many things – the dad.. why he couldn’y articulate his pride, whether he knew his child did not feel that their talent was valued. the mom – when she died, how she died, whether dad would have trod the same path if she lived.
    Damaria Senne recently posted…H Is For Home OfficeMy Profile

    • Psych Babbler says:

      Welcome here Damaria! Thanks for the lovely comment…I’m kinda glad it made you think about so many questions…it’s stuff that we can never really answer. As for dads who don’t communicate their pride, well, I know a lot of us who live that! 😐

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