Date written: 9-28-12

Rebound

The door was the same as any that cold, overcast day in 1893, but I in my state of mind found it the most marvelous thing of my acquaintance. It was made of weathered wood (an old house then) with a shiny brass knocker (recently replaced, by the lack of coloration) and simple stone doorstep. I took the knocker in hand and beat vigorously, only absently noting the effect my late friend possessed to the changes in my formerly non-observant character.

The door creaked open, revealing a wary gaze from the pertly-dressed maid standing there. "What do you want?"

I nodded my head to her and replied simply, "I wish to see Mr. Sigurson."

She eyed me a moment more, then the old door creaked open and I was admitted. I was then told to wait while she fetched the object of my interest.

It was only moments later that a familiar form appeared through the doorway – familiar to me only from long association, as each feature was carefully altered. We stared at each other for a moment, he undoubtedly reading my form as he would a written page while I merely confirmed his presence to my skeptical gaze. We stood in silence a moment longer before he finally spoke. "You came."

I nodded slightly, that voice instilling all the truth I needed to hear. "Yes, Holmes," I replied quietly, "I did."