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God save the queen“John?” Sherlock called from their bed.
“Yes, Sherlock, I’m here love,” John comes in from sun room and settles onto the edge of their bed.
“I can’t see you,” Sherlock squints at John.
“That’s because you don’t have your glasses on.” John takes the glasses from the bed side stand and hands them to his husband of 45 years.
“Oh that’s much better John,” Sherlock huffs as he settles the glasses on his nose.
“Feeling better, ready to get up?” John is examining him thoroughly now. “I told you to get that flu jab last month. You could have saved yourself being sick these last four days.”
“Four days,” Sherlock sits up quickly and grips John by the arms. “The queen, John, I was supposed to transport her early on this week.”
“Its okay love,” John smiles. “She’s all sorted and ensconced in her n
In DreamsCharles dreamt of standing. Standing on his favorite hillside looking out into the valley below, then softly, like wings fluttering in his head he felt Erik.
‘Erik is it you?’ Charles said in his dream.
‘We parted in anger Charles, my friend. I’ve come to return what you left with me.’ Eric’s voice held a tenderness in its tone.
‘What I left with you?’
‘Your love,’ Erik had to smile.
Then strong arms engulfed Charles, wrapping him in his down comforter, lifting him from his bed and carrying him to the French windows and out into the cool night air. Erik flew confidently above the ground; his manipulation of the earth’s magnetic field was easy now. Erik wasn’t wearing the helmet that blocked his thoughts from Charles.
“I didn’t mean my words to be a burden, Erik.” Ch
Death and Sherlock HolmesJohn and Sherlock had been following leads into the lower levels of London’s more dire and delinquent, dirt skirts. They were on alert moving in stealth mode. When from afar a car came out of nowhere, no lights as it rushed towards them going full throttle in an ancient alley that had no alcoves or cross lanes.
“Jump up, Sherlock!” John indicated the decrepit pipes that hung hap-hazardously above them; their only escape.
Sherlock leapt. Caught hold of a pipe that bearly held his slight weight, but John?!? John would never reach this high. Instantly, with no thought for himself Sherlock lowered down as far as he was able.
“GRAP ME.” Sherlock screamed. John flung himself upward catching Sherlock’s legs and holding on as the car careened toward them. Sherlock hauled the two of them up straining and screeching as he sought to bring John up as far as possible. Then the pipe broke just as the car was passing below and
Making Murder“God, John, I’m so bored!” Sherlock had been idle for over a week now and he was in a right good snit.
“I’m not listening,” John replied rustling his newspapers and exhibiting complete and total disregard for anything Sherlock said.
“Please, call Lestrade, do something John.”
“I called Greg this morning, Sherlock, if there were anything new or interesting he would have texted or called us himself. Why don’t you get into one of your experiments or some of the other strangeness that litters the flat all the time?”
Sherlock huffed at the accusation that his experiments were strange and flounced around the room, rooting into things.
“Have you seen my patches?” He gave John his little-boy-lost pouty face.
“Immune to the pouty face, try another,” John said without even looking up at Sherlock.
Flinging himself onto the couch, crushing it to within an
tide is outtide is out
wreckage of the broken ship
is all that remains
there is little to admire
from the wasted ruin
hard to find
words to not turn to tears
welcomes never spoken
losses piled one upon another
when the tide returns
all will be washed away
condemned to the cold
blackness of the sea
where depth has no compassion
water swallowing without
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