A pair of black shoes inched dangerously close to the cracked cement edge. It was odd to look down and see life from this perspective. The evidence of a morning rain was clear to see as the water captured the light, creating an oil slick effect on the ground. Eyes strained to see the detail in the shapes below as the mind couldn't help but figure out what each object and speck would be. Yet, even up from this point of view, where the eyes can take in all types of sights, it was hard not to be focused to the ground just past the tip of the shoes.
"Sherlock."
The voice seemed distant, but the message was heard. Taking in one last look below, the shoes pushed off the cement edge and gravity worked swiftly bringing the body to the ground. The moment the soles made contact, the world snapped back into reality. The chaotic symphony of the world around overflooded the senses, derailing any pervious train of thought.
Sherlock let out a sigh that spoke volumes of his sheer frustration and equal boredom as he trudged across the street to join John on the other side. Why his flat share thought it would be good to get out of the flat and go someplace for lunch was beyond him.