The Last Good Day

Do you remember the last time you went to the pub? You know, before COVID? I do. I can picture it perfectly. The condensation dripped slowly down my, slightly too full, pint. It was eerily quiet. We sat by the fire. It was Sunday the 15th of March 6:15 pm. A school night, no less. I used to love going to the pub on a Sunday evening; it felt so rebellious; it felt like we were stretching the weekend out as far as possible. Making the most of every second. Not moping come 4 pm. But letting time soak into…

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