The paragraph:
However, as I am doing now, I could speculate and take liberties with the advance of time, but all I know is that this pub was now as dead as Jacob Marley and one day no one would ever know that this was a place where those who called it their local felt at home and one last laugh from Ricardo and Howey rent the air like the sound of splitting fabric.
The bonus, a post that has been bouncing around a month now, but is relevant and worth your time (it is not short). Britain Lost 14,000 Third Places. They Were Called Pubs. Is Your Local Next?
