The two grey heads bent low over their neighbouring plots. The air was thick with the smell of sun warmed earth.
“What are you growing this year Pete?”
“Onions. Carrots. cabbage. You?”
“Tomatoes. Lettuces. Beetroot. You growing coleslaw there Pete?”
“You growing a side salad Rog?”
They chuckled over the joke that was as old as their friendship.
“How is Terri doing?”
Pete sagged a little. “She’s not going to get better.”
Roger searched for the right thing to say.
“How about a barbecue? We’ll come to you but I’ll cook?”
“That would be lovely.”
“Grand. I’ll bring the salad.”
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