Wine and Regrets

“Red, red, wine.”

The gravel voice of the singer bounced around the empty bar passed Ruben, the bartender, and stinging the ears of Tony, the only person at the bar.

Tony tapped the shot glass in rhythm with the music. Ruben dried a tumbler. He watched his customer waver in his chair. Tony stared into the mirror behind Ruben.

“Now she’s gone and I can’t forget her.”

Ruben set down the tumbler and whipped the towel over his shoulder.

“She’s been gone a long time now.”

“It seems only yesterday,” said Tony.

“You’ve been telling me that for 20 years.”


“And I keep saying, find another car.”

Tony pulled his wallet from his pants and dug out the yellowed photo of the 1967 Bullitt Mustang McQueen drove in the movie. He fingered a tear in the paper.

“I should have bought this car.”

From the speaker above the bar, the gravel voice sang on: “It’s tearing me apart, my blue, blue heart.”

© 2018, Michael Shawn Sommermeyer. All rights reserved. To republish this post, you must include a link to the original post.

Michael Shawn Sommermeyer

Michael Shawn Sommermeyer writes fast fiction, observations, poetry, mysteries, fantasies, and science fiction. He focuses on oddities, unbelievable facts, strange phenomenon, discoveries, and the people who wander uneven worlds. He ponders the dreams of mythmakers and explores what the every person dreams about. He writes fiction for and has written scientific and technical writing for a number of magazines.

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