The three friends sat with their knees almost touching at the too small table in the too crowded pub. The pint glasses in front of them were half full. Or half empty, depending on your outlook.
“Why is it that we only do this once a year?”
A synchronised mouthful from the glasses. “You know how it is. Life gets in the way doesn’t it?”
Sighs. Chins rested on fists.
“What’s stopping us from doing this next week?”
Mouths open, excuses resting on tongues.
“I’m free.”
“Me too.”
“Curry?”
“Definitely.”
It was another twelve months before they saw each other.
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