Predictable
They fall in love.
They get married.
They have kids.
It’s all too
predictable
he says.
I nod.
Maybe he knows
something
they don’t.
Maybe there’s
still hope
I think to myself.
His cellphone rings.
Excuse me
he says.
He gets up
and walks out.
I see him laughing.
He’s happy.
He’s in love.
It’s all too
predictable.
I finish my apple pie
and leave.
Jaundré van Breda © 2020