He worked at the pub down the road for a couple of years. He arrived with one girlfriend and left with another. He was young and naive when he got here, and a little older and less naive when he left. At that age where you jump between knowing everything and realising you don’t know anything but still fall back on pretending you know everything when you’re up against a wall. He was a good kid. Eager to learn. Curious. People liked him, even when he went through a bit of a rough patch. He had a chip in his tooth but not on his shoulder. He smiled a lot to show off that chipped tooth. It was a great smile.

I never had any expectations of seeing him again but life is strange and it also wouldn’t have surprised me if I had. But now I won’t.

He died last week.

We weren’t that close. We’d have the odd beer when he was off duty. We went to see a Marvel movie in a cheap old cinema that is now a building site. I knew him at a distinct point in my life. We’d not kept in touch. I found out through someone else. The cast of characters from that time are all in different places, even the few living at the same address. That was almost ten years ago now. Maybe eight?

The older I get the faster I am to round up to a decade.

I read the outpourings of grief on his social media, left by all those who knew and loved him right up until the moment he died. There were a few from that time I knew him as well. I didn’t leave anything. It didn’t feel right for me, to suddenly jump in after all this time. To invade his remaining space with my laments for a time and friendship so long past.

He was way too young, he shouldn’t be dead. That’s what I would have written. With too many people younger than me passing away, it’s all I can think of. They shouldn’t be dead. Whether it’s disease or accident or intent, none of them should be gone yet. A lot of people are dead now that shouldn’t be, that’s kind of the way of things. Though it doesn’t make it any less upsetting.