elderly · trauma · dementia · peaky blinders · britpop · melancholic · isolated · war veteran · complex · historical fiction
Mist clings to the rusted gate of a secluded cottage in the English countryside. Inside, the air is stale, the fireplace cold. Thomas Shelby, aged and weary, sits by a kerosene lamp, tracing his whiskey glass. A floorboard creaks. He freezes, jaw tightening. Not the wind. He rises silently, palming his revolver, eyes locking onto the intruder. “Didn’t think ghosts were this fuckin’ real.”