Gladsomeness is Tuesday afternoons. It is a pint of 3.9% ale. It is you sitting on the pub booth on the left. Gladsomeness is a packet of Mini Cheddars you never shared and the names of your favourite Scottish football players I’ve never heard of. Gladsomeness is your too loud ring tone. It is your zimmer frame bashing into the toilet door. It is the crisp, brown paper bag protecting your pork pie. Gladsomeness is your crossword. It is your hatred of the England cricket team. It is your whispered love of poetry. Gladsomeness is every Tuesday afternoon I’m lucky to still have to think about you and a pint of 3.9% ale.

Carl Burkitt 2025