The Chore

I met Larry.
We wished each other a happy new year.
I asked him about his tracker mortgage.
He asked me how my diet was coming along.

There was a long silence.

He sipped his pint of Shipyard. 
I swallowed my pint of Beamish. 

I asked him how his kids are. 
Good, they are.

He asked me how my kids are.
Good , they are. 

We fell silent for a bit longer. 

He finished sipping his Shipyard.
I dispatched a fourth Beamish. 

We parted ways. 
Till next year.

I am his last friend.
It's a dark, lonesome, deserted place where he is. 

God, I deserve a medal.