Sunday.

I got a card today. Nothing much, just a simple birthday card, even though my birthday was last week.

'-SH'was written on the inside.

Monday.

There was a new mobile sitting on the table in my today. I know I should be concerned, but the fact that just yesterday I broke my old one interested me.

'-JW'was already set as the signature and Sherlock's birthday was set in the calendar.

Tuesday.

There was robbery at the growth store while I was there today. I could have stopped it, I wanted to, I had my gun- I guess I was too scared.

There was a container of bullets in mmymailbox when I got home. Along with the note "Use them well, John."

Wednesday.

Lestrade called me today. Scotland Yard got an anonymous tip that led to them catching a well known forger in the act. They caught a few other forgets as well, apparently they were having a meeting of the forgers or something.

Lestrade said it reminds him of Sherlock.

Thursday.

Another anonymous tip to the Yard. A serial killer, found bleeding to death. His last words were "That bloody bastard Sherlock Holmes!"

Friday.

Sherlock's in my flat right now. He says he's sorry. It's like he thinks that he can disappear for two years- no, die for two years- and just pop back to life and think everything's going to be fine.

That stupid bastard.

He's reading this over my shoulder and pouting now because I called him a bastard.

Saturday.

I'm- using my voice recorder- to note this because my hands aren't freeee! Oh, Sherlock, do that again... Oh yeah. Oh God. Harder. Please, Sherlock. If you c-couldn't tell I'm -oh yes, please, faster Sherlock- a bit preoccupied!