into the water, splash!
with a squeal and loud laughter,
she douses her dad
Looking backward, he contemplates:
Do we mostly orchestrate our own tortures, invite them to our door, fling it wide open and beg them to come inside for a spell?
Thinking about it, he isn’t so certain that the troubles he lived through weren’t of his own making — trying to play a poker-face with the world when it held all the cards.
Two times. Neither of which were his troubles, but those he brought to others in which the recipient wasn’t somehow complicit in their own suffering. Undeserving, they both bore his meanness well.
All other times, he orchestrated his own suffering, or the people he caused to suffer seemed to want their suffering. Can you have regrets about something that was wanted on the subconscious level?
Twirling the wineglass in hand — and tomorrow, what will that bring?