Watson / Holmes
Life was going exceptionally well. I had been living happily with my wife. On the contrary, my surgery was overbooked due to the recent outbreak of syphilis. No one had come to the bottom of this viral infection; however I had on good authority that an observant companion of mine was researching the stigmatised medical issue.
It was on the 14th of May that Id received a letter from my old friend Sherlock Holmes. He complimented our partnership, suggesting that his powers of deduction would not prosper without the assistance of myself. The letter instructed me to join him at 221b Baker Street on the 25th of April, at 22:00 to analyse recent trends in the news, and to try and apprehend why this issue cannot be stopped, over a spot of supper.
I had not seen Holmes for many years, so, naturally I was overwhelmed with anxiety. It was 21:49 when I reach the door of the private investigator. Of course, knowing the man very well I already knew that he knew I was there. I went to knock on the door, but then thought how foolish this would be, and simply pushed open the door. I was grateful to be inside, due to the sudden forming of rain clouds.
Stepping up the stairs, I reached the room Sherlock was in.
"ahhh Watson, there was no need to eat before you came to me, I've had a feast prepared us"
Confused I replied "how did…" but I was cut short.
"Watson my friend, you have crumbs from the pastry of the pie you had for dinner on your jacket".
We chuckled together as I wiped away the crumbs that were stuck to my jacket. Looking around the room I could see many articles spread over his desks. Clearly my friend had not slept for many days, as when he is engaged with a case, he fasts himself of rest until his studies are complete.
"if you go over to the table on the left, you will find a carving knife and a large bird, please Watson, cut us both some chicken to delight ourselves with whilst we further explore this little issue that London has"
Walking over to the knife, I thought about what pleasantries I had been experiencing since the rise of this issue. I looked back over to Holmes and noticed he had slumped himself into his chair, and had his eyes closed in that ignorant manner he often did when clients visited his doors.
"its funny my dear Holmes, whenever you seem to write me, I find myself in bother"
Sherlock effortlessly laughed at this, and continued to meditate.
Holmes and I had some supper and straight after got down to researching the latest case.
"Watson, in my bedroom, there is more articles. Would you mind"
I obeyed Holmes' orders and went to his room to collect more articles. Annoyingly, I could not see the articles, when suddenly the door to the room, that id left open, closed.
To Be Continued …