Regret

Regret strolls slowly along the lakefront on a briskly frigid night, pondering what to do about her boyfriend. She has soft, velveteen blonde hair, which is cropped short. Regret works as a secretary for a company in South California, always wondering around the hallways, not doing what she should.
Regret hates baking, but bakes anyways. In fact, she mostly just stares at the cookies are they burn in the oven, not caring to rescue them. Why should they be rescued? Regret sometimes passes me by; she steps on my foot and mumbles some half-hearted apology. Regret lives in an old Victorian house on the top of a hill. She doesn't take care of it, though. There are cobwebs and cracked window panes.
Regret sometimes calls in sick, but instead of going out on the town or a spa, she just sits in her room. Regret falls asleep in the shower, and when she wakes up, she regrets letting herself do that. But, she'll do it again tomorrow, not having the will to break her own habits. Or the will to do much of anything.