Turning PointGet your ticket. Sit. Wait. Get off the train. Get on a different one. Sit. Wait. Repeat.Turning Point in General Fiction More Like This
John knew this wouldn't help. Going north to Scotland for a week wouldn't change the fact that his best friend was dead and buried in a graveyard outside London. But Ella and Mrs. Hudson had begun conspiring against him, and he could never turn his landlady down, not anymore.
The trip had been utterly unremarkable so far. Disappointing breakfast (Is there any other type of breakfast on a train?), an endless grey landscape blurring by his window, and twice he had caught people whispering and pointing at him, mouthing words like 'Holmes', 'Moriarty', and 'liar'. He'd taken two trains and was on his way to a third when he heard it, ghosting through the station.
John froze where he stood. Ignoring the minor traffic jam he caused, John spun around and pushed his way across the platform, searching for the source of the music. He knew the pieceBeethoven something or o