In another world, I plaited my daughter’s hair and finished the braid with a pink bow.
She yelped, pulled it off, ‘Ugh, Mum!’ I laughed, teasing my little emo. She reached
for a black bow and handed it to me; I duly tied it.
In another world, my daughter baked scones that didn’t rise. We slathered jam and
cream on the biscuit-dry discs and scoffed them as if they were our last meal.
In another world, I told my daughter she did her best, average grades are still
passes. I took her out for pizza, told her she had all the time in the world to choose
her path.
In another world, I didn’t make my daughter wear pink, or make her throw away burnt
scones, didn’t take away privileges for bad grades.
In another world, I don’t cry as another birthday passes without a text, a card, a call.
Originally a journalist and sub-editor, Sarah Barnett’s words have been performed by Short Story Today and Act Your Age Productions. She’s been published in Flashflood 2021 and 2023, Paragraph Planet, Five Minutes, Retreat West, Inkfish and Free Flash Fiction. She also won Highly Commended in the NFFD microfiction competition 2024.
This story won both 1st Prize and the People’s Prize in the June 24 Monthly Micro Competition.
I am very touched by this story/poem. It captures perfectly both the love and the loss. Kudos.
Regret is a terrible burden and this story captures it brilliantly in those few words.