The crisp white-gloved hand placed the covered platter
in front of the gentleman
The gentleman’s eyes locked on the platter
Knowing what lay underneath the cover
His breathing slowed
His heart’s beat resting
The pause continued
Until the glances from around the room
Caught the gentleman’s attention

His eyes met those
Of faces plastered with equally blank stares
Taking in their expectations and worried faces
Human compassion extended for mere seconds

He recognized them
As the ones who followed his every step
Up to this very hour
Those who loved him
Those who cared
Those who loathed
Those whose lives were not entertaining enough
So they wished to watch the gentleman’s life play out
Just for kicks
Again, his gaze fell upon the fate in front of him

The wrinkle in his forehead slowly appeared
As he cautiously controlled his breathing

His arm slowly moved from his lap toward the reflective silver metal
Of the cover on the platter
Trying to hide the slight shaking in his hand
One glance more
To those he will miss

The handle is cold
But the wrinkle fades
And his eyes are steady on the cover

His shoulders rise and fall one last time

He lifts the cover

Fate reaches out
And takes the gentleman in its’ grasp.