It’s probably nothing…

Something wasn’t right. It wasn’t a chest pain like they show on TV or in the movies. Or maybe it was.

And it wasn’t the first time today, or this week. 

A jab. That’s what he called it in his mind. It almost sounded fun that way. “A jab.” “Oh, it’s just a little jab.”

Put it in the same file with: “Little fib.” “White lie.” “Easter bunny.”

But this little poke was different. Not that it was more pain or a different pain, or a sharper stick this time.

“You OK?”

He didn’t answer her at first. Making her wait for an answer just a moment too long was becoming a more frequent jab these days, too.

“Is it a heart pain? Is that another one?”

“It’s fine,” he said, not looking away from the Mason jar he was filling at the sink. He regretted the twinge of anger in his voice.  

Taking a long draw of water from the quart jar, the almost-cutting chill of the water triggered a memory, which in turn triggered his go-to list of regrets.

[Bon Air, 2016]