This is a bit of light relief from my other story, just to prove that I can write something other than angst :-P This follows the childhood of John Hamish Watson and is written in the drabble format made famous by Chewing Gum in her wonderful stories.
John Hamish Watson eyed his friend warily, concern etched across his features as his companion and confident lay listlessly (or so it seemed to John) on the grass. He was cold and clammy and, although he had no real idea of what colour he should have been, John was sure that he was too pale.
He considered asking his mother for assistance, but she did not like his friend very much and had screeched in horror the last time he had brought him into the house.
There was nothing else for it, John decided, but to go it alone in this case. Summoning 6 (and a half) years of experience (not necessarily medical, but experience nonetheless), John set about constructing a sick bed- made from a match box- for his friend Willie. The best and finest worm he had ever encountered.