Mr. Squiggly and Ms. Stern end their story

On that day he was as neat as hse always wanted him to be.
He folded his socks in straight piles, his shirts
uncharacteristically pressed and starched in protest.

She watched him pack,
leaning gingerly on the bedroom doorframe,
impatiently tapping her perfect nails
against the plaster of the wall.

In the end, he had to admit that he expected something more
than the urgency of a strange yellow cab awaiting him.
In the end, he expected her to
break down a little,
to hav his first and last look at some tenderness
behinde her rigid face.

In the end, all he has was a packed suitcase.

He had nothing but her deep sigh of relief
to see him out the door.