Jerusalem

Not as holy as you may think. A tavern in fact, or a shop turned 'tavern'. Bit of a fake, but atmospheric nonetheless.
The empty settle in front of me. Plenty of imaginary folk join me for pints of St. Peter's ales. Old friends, dead friends, or perhaps a young lover. In fact, Paddy lumbered into the seat, and we drank beer, ate scratchings and talked rubbish. A fine establishment.