He comes for his things
But pauses at the door
Forced to ring the bell
My key doesn’t work, he says
I changed the lock, she replies
He gives her a boyish grin
How about a cup of tea?
All right, she says
They sit in the kitchen
He reaches for her hand
I’m sorry I hurt you
Can we try again?
Let me make amends
She sighs, and hope dies
Can I have a biscuit, then?
The tin is slid towards him
They’re all broken, he scowls
She raises her head and smiles
Written in response to Sadje‘s What Do You See #108 photo prompt.
The Reluctant Poet 