Flash Fiction for Friday Fictioneers
The Thing About Regrets
I have kicked many a stone down the tracks but that mutt still follows me.
My best friend in medical school, older and wiser, had protested and stormed out of the canine lab that day. She would have rescued that mutt if the white coated professor hadn’t stopped her.
The rationale? For the greater good of human medicine. For the greater good of sentient beings.
The mangy mutt with no choices had stayed. Her rights had been euthanized the day the kill shelter had picked her up, unwanted and unloved, off the street.
I had a choice that day and I had stayed.
That’s the thing about regrets, they hound you. I’ve long forgotten the important cardio-physiology but I can’t forget that beautiful mutt, that wasted life, that meaningless death.