Predictable

A and B had been close friends for a very long time. They did not talk to each other, a situation which was far from disturbing them. It was the natural side of things when they were on their own. They never deemed their attitude strange or found embarrassing the absence of any talking between the two. Remaining silent in the company of each other was the ground state of the system they formed, their lowest-energy state, and it suited them both plenty. They were talkative fellows when it came to meeting with larger groups of people. But even then, if they happened to be left alone in their only company for a while, they would spend a most enjoyable time without the exchange of a single word.

Their behavior wasn't like that when they first met. Back then talking was something they both much sought after. It was fluent, pleasant and, as such, desirable. They shared abundant talking in equal amounts and walked the walking that their talking outlined. They grew up older and wiser while their talking went on. They talked so much that their sudden stop came up as the only possible inevitable outcome. All had already been said, they both realized. Through countless revisions and adaptations each other's opinions, points of view, stances, judgments, attitudes, convictions, had become all too predictable and familiar to be worth the tiniest mention. So they kept their lips sealed, secretly fearing that a single word exchange could break the magic spell of their lasting friendship.