It was going seven
when the street lamps flickered to life’ and the pub doors opened. I was
turning the last corner on the route to the pub. My old mate and me were
meeting at the pub. We hadn’t seen each other in ages, when I got there the pub
looked worn down. I just remembered why I hadn’t been here in ages. The pub
employees went on strike and the pub closed. The owner never came back and all
my mates went there separate ways. Brainstorm my mate and I could buy the pub
and own it great.
By fynn