Regrets
John clutched his drink, sorrow drawn on his lined face. The stranger startled him from his ruminations. “Hi there”. John looked up and faked a smile, “Hey”. The stranger gestured to the stool; John nodded. “Double whiskey please”, the stranger ordered his poison after seating himself.
“What brings you to this dive?”
“I’d like to say woman and gambling…”. The stranger looked around the bar, ”…but I’ll settle for gambling”.
“What’s got you worried?” the stranger asked, nonchalantly and knowingly, after taking first purchase of his drink. John sighed, giving his mind a moment to choose a response. He looked up at the stranger. Maybe it was his worn and wordly face, or perhaps it was the drink, but John felt his defenses lift. The stranger became easy to talk to. After a brief opening of “Well…”, John began telling him about the moment - the moment in his life when everything changed. The regret that made John whom he is. The moment that haunted him. The stranger had to do little work- a knowing nod here, a reassuring word there.
“And yeah, that’s pretty much my story” John concluded, holding back a tear. “Strange…I… I’m not usually so open”. He gave a nervous chuckle. The stranger half smiled. Something about his face changed briefly. He sipped on his second whiskey. Looking up to something that wasn’t there he said, “Well John, it might be your lucky night.” He turned his head to face John. “What if I told you that I have a solution for you? A way to go back... and change your decision?”. “I’d say you’re deluded”, John responded with a playful tone. The stranger smiled and paused as if deciding on what to do next. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dark leather wallet and slid it along the counter to rest in front of John. “Open it”. John flipped it open with his free hand. His mouth went dry. His heart halted and then began to race as his mind struggled to process what he saw. A seething mix of emotion crept over him. Fear, anxiety and then excitement as he came to terms with realization. Suddenly feeling sober, he uttered “Wh..h…how would you…we do this?”
The alley was dark, the pain was sharp. John heard his head crack before time seemed to slow. His life following that day started playing back to him like a madly edited movie. Chronologized episodic memories of relationships he had had, first encounters with the people he had come to love and relived happy coincidences echoed through his minds eye, giving him witness to incidental joy. He saw them disappear. He felt loss. He watched the person he had become die.
John awoke. A younger John, with less lines.