Journal #4

Then, Nick started to ponder Regret. Regret, that conceited one with the ever present eyes who lived always within reach. The unwelcome being who dwelt in the hearts of men without invitation, without permission. What requires Regret to be summoned, and what force can push him out? He slithers around his internal hiding spot that is invisible to the universe. Hides vigilant and camouflaged hour after hour with his fangs ready to pierce, awaiting the call to make himself known. To wrap himself around man and remind him what could have or would have or should have been done. He was bound to find blood from its bite staining her thoughts one day soon. He was sympathetic and scared for her too. Miserable Katherine! She shouldn't have to win this fight on her own. He had Ann bring in others to offer their wisdom, but Katherine declined. These others wuz fine to console themselves, but there was nothing they could do to go back in time. She'd be just fine when the red sea in front of her parted. She wouldn't let herself drown. That was the way she saw it. However, Ann had told him the opposite, so he knew the truth. And even if he didn't, soon enough he was liable to realize, for her home filled with life had been transformed into a holding place for stale memories of a bitter past. Weeds that never would have tried to grow in the gardens before now burst through the dirt defiantly. Simply pushed aside the flowers and begged for judgement. Remorse, that motionless snake, had poisoned another life.