Note: The inspiration for the following poem comes from this writing prompt at Writer’s Digest, as well as from my previous promise to myself to work to write creatively more often.
Ron stared blankly at his computer screen
His coffee-colored eyes beginning to glaze over
Like those of a child at Sunday School.
To his left, a cup of yogurt sat beside a tall mug of cocoa.
The vessel’s green and orange paint obscured a beige clay beneath,
while the liquid inside released its steam complete with a ghost-like trail around it.
To his right hang Ron’s tuxedo. Unused — still wrapped tightly in its rental bag.
For all of his nerves leading Ron’s heart to do its best impression of a bounding kangaroo,
Ron never expected this.
Across the table, a pair of stapled papers was set, mercilessly mocking his motives.
The words on the pages were spaced tighter than a textbook, but Ron knew the summary.
She’s gone. She wasn’t coming back.
The tuxedo would go unused for the foreseeable future.
As Ron bit into the apple in his hand, one of his incisors let out a satisfying crunch.
Everything else was falling apart — why not a tooth too?