The Meeting of Sherlock Holmes and John WatsonThe Meeting of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
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John Watson's train departed at 6:15pm promptly, King's Cross Station. The streets bustled and churned with the late traffic, cabs and stagecoaches flooding the wide roads of London. John gasped. The pain again. He put a hand to his chest. The bullet had been 2 inches from his heart. He hadn't had the courage to tell the doctors it still pained him. They had treated him all over Europe sending him to better hospitals for the good part of two years. He was not planning on going to the hospital any time soon.
People knocked into him as they passed hurriedly to get home to their families, meetings and friends. He sighed. No one was waiting for him. Nothing happened to him any more. He was ill, and tired and alone.
He picked up his luggage-- two tan, leather suitcases, one in each hand-- and continued his departure from the station. He called on a cab pulled by a stron
The End of Mister Sherlock HolmesThe End of Mister Sherlock Holmes2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
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John Watson looked at the grey marble. His lower lip quivered. The grass around the newly dug grave was browning, and a single plain bouquet of white flowers were placed ornately on the fresh earth. The stone was cold and colourless, much like the person it covered, but also like the person it covered, John grew to like the type of tomb stone Mrs. Hudson had picked out for his late-companion. It was not tall, unlike the person it covered, and was rounded, unlike the person it covered. And it read:
"Mister Sherlock Holmes (1854-1891)"
Watson stood, in his best suit; a singular figure for his companion's burial. Mrs. Hudson had had to be away in Ireland with her ill sister, so Sherlock Holmes had been sent off by John Watson, and no one else. Not even his brother Mycroft showed for the dark 'celebration' of the day. Joh