No Time for Regrets

Flash Fiction February (Day 25)

Feb 26, 2025

The car had run out of gas about a mile back, so I had to walk the rest of the way. Not ideal, but I had no choice.

A rumbling sound shook the air from the skies above. It sounded like thunder, but it wasn't. It didn't rain anymore.

I walked briskly, keeping my breaths short and my footsteps light. In the distance, I saw the rusted metal sign towering over the side of the highway.

INTERNET CAFE, it read, with the first word in a standard font and the other in a cursive style. A graphic designer's worst nightmare, but to me, it was the most beautiful sign I had ever seen.

I walked through the empty parking lot and stepped through the broken glass doors at the entrance. The place had been cleared out, picked clean by looters.

Past the empty desk and a handful of broken arcade machines, a line of tables sat against the far wall. On the far-left side, a computer monitor sat covered in dust.

The grey outer shell had turned a sour shade of yellow over the years. The thick glass screen was covered in a visible layer of dust. The looters probably wrote it off as a glorified paperweight.

I sat down in the plastic chair positioned in front of the table. My eyes wandered down to the computer tower on the floor to my right. It, too, had turned the same shade of grayish yellow over the years.

My hands shook as I pushed the power button. A brief pause, and then the fans inside whirred to life. The entire thing groaned like an elderly person forced from their slumber.

I turned the monitor on, wiping the dust from the screen as a logo from decades ago flashed on the screen. The desktop was simple, with a default background that depicted a lush green hill and a crisp blue sky.

I can’t remember the last time I saw the sun.

An application labeled MESSENGER stood out among the icons that littered the left side of the screen. I double-clicked it, and a window opened.

An error message appeared in red text at the top of the window: NO INTERNET CONNECTION. I ignored it and typed a message into the bottom of the window:

USER1: Are you there?

The error message disappeared, replaced by a new one in blue text: USER2 HAS JOINED.

USER2: Yeah, I'm here.

USER1: We don't have much time. Do you believe me now?

USER2: It happened just like you said it did. Right down to the day and time. I still can't believe it.

My heart weighed heavily in my chest. I knew exactly how he was feeling.

USER1: I'm sorry, I really am.

USER2: I tried my best...

USER1: I know you did.

USER2: It would have been one thing if you sent me winning lotto numbers or warned me about some big disaster, but this? This was too personal to be a coincidence.

USER 1: I'm sorry; I knew it was the only way to convince you.

The sound of glass shattering pulled me away from the computer screen.

USER 1: Hang on a sec, I’ll be right back.

USER 2: How long are you going to be? I don’t know how long I can stay here.

I didn’t have time to answer him. I turned the monitor off and stepped away from the computer and ducked behind one of the arcade machines. The faded art on the side depicted two characters dressed in bright colored ninja outfits.

MORTAL MAYHEM was written across the top. I actually loved that game when I was younger.

Before all this.

I heard the thick and heavy cadence of their metallic bodies. I leaned against the arcade machine and held my breath. Any movement. Any sound, even a pin drop, and I would be vaporized.

Their footsteps got closer and then they stopped. I looked over and saw their reflection in the dusty glass of the nearby computer screen. Their smooth metal faces were devoid of any features.

Devoid of any soul.

“Temporal signature identified,” a synthetic voice said.

“Order the strike,” another voice replied.

Fuck! They’re going to glass the whole area.

I clenched my fists and waited for them to leave. My lungs were on fire. My vision started to waver. I couldn’t hold my breath much longer.

Their heavy footsteps got further and further away. I finally let out the air in my lungs. Slowly, ever so slowly, and then headed back to the computer.

I sat down and started typing with shaking hands.

USER1: Hey, I’m back.

USER2: What happened?

USER1: It’s a long story; all you need to know is that it was our fault. Once the singularity hit, there was no stopping it.

USER2: Singularity?

USER1: Never mind that. If we do this right, it will never be invented. I’m sure our species will find another way to kill ourselves…

But at least this way it won’t be my fault.

USER2: Can I ask you something?

USER1: Sure.

USER2: Does it ever stop hurting? You know, after she left?

USER1: No, the pain never stops. Instead, you get stronger.

USER2: And what about you? Are you happy? Do we ever find happiness?

USER1: We do, but it's short-lived. Trust me, you don't want to suffer like I have. It’s better this way.

USER2: Right. So, assuming I believe you, I don't need to ask what happens next, do I?

USER1: No, we covered that the last time we spoke.

USER2: What's going to happen to you? Is it going to hurt?

USER1: I have no idea. I've never done this before.

USER2: Right…

USER1: So, will you do it?

USER2: There's no other way?

USER1: I've tried, trust me.

USER2: Are you scared?

USER1: I'm fucking terrified.

USER2: Well, at least we're on the same page.

USER1: You need to do it now. No more waiting.

USER2: Yeah, I hear you. I'll get it done.

Blue text appeared at the top of the window: USER2 HAS LEFT THE CHAT.

I sat back and let out a long sigh as I shut my eyes—nothing to do now but wait. I hoped he’d make the right choice, but either way, it would be over soon.

The faint echo of laughter jolted my senses. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard someone laugh. I looked up and saw the computer in front of me was suddenly pristine as well. A whole new model. Not a speck of dust anywhere on it.

Another giggle broke the silence. It was charming and full of hope.

I stood up and spun around. Vague silhouettes of people started to form in the space around me, shimmering like mirages in the desert. Children ran past me as adults materialized at the desks.

The stale carpet was suddenly bursting with color. The burned-out light bulbs flickered to life. Other computers slowly materialized into existence as the staccato rhythm of fingers on keyboards filled the air.

The Broken arcade machines in the front lit up with a thousand colors, joyfully filling the space with their chiptune soundtracks.

It’s working. Holy shit, it’s working!

I made my way through the building to the front, pushing open the glass doors and stepping out into a sunny afternoon.

The sky above was a brilliant shade of blue. I felt the warmth of sunlight on my face and all I could do was smile.

Then, I felt a strange tingling sensation in my fingers. I looked down at my hands and saw them flickering like a bad television signal.

So, this is how it happens.

Time was like a river, it seemed. Even the largest splash took time to send ripples in every direction. New changes would take hold slowly but surely. The current shifted its course until everything was right again.

I kept smiling anyway. I had seen enough to know that it worked. I couldn't imagine how he felt in those final moments. Scared, terrified, sure.

But maybe hopeful, too?

Like me, he probably spent his final moments thinking about what he wished had been different. As much as I hated the idea of regrets, I knew we both had our fair share.

The feeling of the sun on my skin started to fade until only the sounds of cars driving by on the highway were left. I tried to open my eyes, but they were gone as well.

This was it. My mind searched frantically for any way to stop the end, but it settled only on a single thought:

I wish I had…