Lost Opportunities

In my late forties, with regret defining every moment of my life; one day after days of deliberation, having finally resolved; from my cupboard I retrieved my wedding dress, carefully gift-wrapped it, wrote the address I got from the orphanage on it, put a note within it which read, ‘Like many, I’m a victim of circumstance and I understand that no word of mine can ever pacify any of your grudges; but I dare share one parting gift with you: this dress that I could never use and hope you’ll find it in your heart to pardon this unworthy mother’; went out to post it, returned home to smell the leaking gas, and mustered the courage to light a match.

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