This piece is about men missing being in pubs as has been the case in the years since Covid and beyond. Football, sport, cars, blokes bad jokes , small talk is their way of lightening the load, undoing the weariness of life’s trial and the pressures of growing economic hardship.

Mattie silhouetted by the raindrops and door is a jovial chap, talks loads and laughs loud. And he had a great pile of small talk yarn lying unravelled at his feet. He is a optimistic fun loving chap.

Hubert by the storm cloud window is a more reserved chap. Talks less, although he joins in with the laughter. He has less yarn at his feet. There are ants crawling out of his pants and his brain is a jumble of squiggles. Although it doesn’t show in his outward demeanour, he is not coping well, a melt down is on its way, when the laden storm clouds burst…

With more and more men working from home, with nowhere to go, pub visitations few and far in between, I fear their fate without their petty essential life sustaining SMALL TALK.