Prologue

33 0 0
                                    

Saloon Keeper was an Italian Pub placed in Lecce and not many years ago. Born in 2016 even though it seemed to be elder than then and in 1930s maybe, 1933 for exactly as its sign's just said.

This was her favorite Pub of the city even if it seemed coming from another place too. Entering there people came catapulted in another reality, Far West as punctually.

She couldn't ever imagined she would be taken as food blogger there but it was true. She started to look at some photo placed on the wall next to counter and remembered some moment spent with her friends there not much before.

She reminded America she is always dreamt but never held, many places of her life and especially childish one. She was in Italy because her mother came from there.

She wasn't entirely Italian too because her father was as British as her. Nevertheless this location made her remember when she lived over there before those holidays and France.

English Pubs are rather similar with this she has belonged since now and Brummies particularly. That Bar she still remembered more and more precisely than others ones.

She felt so green again and returned a little daughter when, gone across the front door and the hallway, she started running and especially with other kids as her together. But it's a particular moment she couldn't ever forget anymore.

It was in the 1990s when her grandfather Faustus brought Lorraine there, it was the first she frequented localities as that and one time would have meant something of decisively terrible and especially for a little girl as her. She laid on the counter, completely horrible for a time.

He took place besides her and after asked something to drink started to tell something about his life. The place was called Garrison and was one of the most ancient Taverns of the second capital of business but not more at that time.

It was a Pub with Irish origins which has seen succeeding many owners and bartenders till then. It was too rough especially many years before but the reality of that quarter, Small Heath, didn't ever change too much anymore.

Dear Kitten, I'm a Peaky Blinder's descendant!Where stories live. Discover now