The Apple from the cupboard rolled to the floor.
Pack up your things and go.
She leaned back against the door
and with her eyes screamed:
For god‘s sake, please, no!
But I knew at once that I had had enough;
I got my feet,
picked up the apple,
dusty and still green,
and put it on the table.
Incessantly she begged, she came to the table,
and cried.
She looked at me, wiped the apple,
and cried:
Until I said: Put the apple down and go!
The events unrolled as I had envisaged.
What does it matter if the sequence was different!
She opened the door,
I turned pale and said: Stay!
But she packed her things and went.
The apple from the cupboard rolled to the floor.
