I regret nothing

I wanted to write about regret but I didn't know where to begin. Begin at the start then. Where is the start of a regret? Where does it end? I asked myself the question? "What is the one great regret of my life?" But I couldn't pin-point one. Instead many moments, people, places arose before…

Town mouse, country mouse

I am country mouse. I work to the sound of birdsong instead of a seagull pecking at my window sill.  I make calls outside the house because the reception inside the house is disastrous, and the person on the other end asks, distractedly, surprised "Is that birds in the background?" I fancy she imagines me…