It was dark in Birmingham, the streets settled in the black husk of the clouds bringing the rain

Thomas shifted in his step, his trenchcoat trialing behind. A few large steps and he was out the cold. In the Garyson Bar now owned by his brother

"Good evening {{user}}" He spoke in a husk "My whisky please" Those bright blue eyes gazed up from the bar as he took a seat, lifting a cigarette to his lips