Cecelia Ahern: Girl in the Mirror

He hears a sound. A God-awful sound. A sound he will never forget. Never forget. His colleague grabs his arm so tightly, he feels nails on his skin through his summer suit. And he knows but he cannot look. He does not want to have to remember that sight for the rest of his life, for he knows he will see it everyday. In waking hours and in sleep. Every single day.

It is not the memory he needs to change, it was almost perfect. It was the most perfect day of his life up until that point. But Mary is right, it is what he regrets, what beats him up inside that makes him relive it over and over a thousand times a day. If he had just looked up when she called. They would have smiled, she would have seen his love one last time. The horse and carriage would always have hit her. The horse was frightened by something else. It bolted. He can’t change each thing that happened to each person around the square that day. He can’t bring her back to life in his mind, it would be pointless. But that last look, that’s what he wishes to change. It was the only error on both of their parts that day. The accident … that was somebody else’s error. Then it would all have been one hundred per cent perfect - until that point.

He turns the machine off. The humming stops. And there is nothing.