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"Tom,

Pol's hair is long right now. Longer than you'd think.

But since you want me to make it funny, it's fucking big. She looks a bit like a mop herself.

Ran out of your cologne, and I don't have the money to get more, so my life has officially gone to shit, and your pillow officially no longer smells like you, two years on.

Miss you heaps.

Georgia."

She didn't give me a topic to write back about. She must be having a hard week. 

Letters // [thomas shelby / peaky blinders]Where stories live. Discover now