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How can you lose what you never had?

I tell myself when I’m feeling sad…

Elvis Presley was a legend. But this song makes me wonder whether legends are just extraordinary people with ordinary problems.

Heartache, loneliness, regrets, misconceptions, all twined into a big ball of mess. Something you try to roll away, but it rolls back bigger in size, and messier than ever.

This porch has been my haven for twelve years. A record player the only companion that bothered to stay.


Because it couldn’t walk away from me.

I chuckle. Jokes aren’t my thing. But it feels good to laugh off the pain.

This pain is a guest of mine.

Unwelcome but here to stay.

It hurts me to see you sit and cry…

It hurts me to see those tears in your eyes.

Elvis knew what he sang. His lyrics could bring a person to their knees, that baritone voice a miracle of faith.

And I’ve clung to his music like a newborn clings to its mother’s chest. It kept me alive when others insisted I should be dead.

My faults were recounted, brought to my notice, and I was evicted from hearts, warned to never return.

Old parents, a wife, two children, and three subsequent girlfriends, no mercy, no compassion, just accusing fingers raised in my direction.

A man’s usefulness only remains till he can satisfy the needs of others.

The arthritis had crippled my limbs. It had demolished my mental balance.

This thing called love, I just can’t handle it…

Crazy little thing called love.

You said it, Elvis. Love is crazy. It’s the devil’s curse upon mankind. There’s no logic to it.

I wipe my cheeks. These damn tears have no shame. But it’s not my fault.

Elvis Presley always makes me cry.

When a son isn’t worthy of his father’s legacy, what can he do to redeem himself? Read Honorable Drug Lord to find out.

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3 Comments on “Elvis Presley Always Makes Me Cry – Flash Fiction Story

  1. Pingback: The Kissing Maiden-Flash Fiction Story | It Ain't Right Till I Write

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