When I walk past closed pubs I feel a strange sense of loss. It is not a welcome pause, but rather a feeling of empty space that used to be full of joviality and sociality. The empty streets and quiet pavements look a lot like relics to a lost world. One which, despite its many flaws, we once loved. But emptiness is never just nothing. There are embers of hope that cloud the windows of boarded up cafes and public houses. There are ways to conjure the voices of companions we can no longer hear.