I feel sooooo bad! I haven't written in ages and I promised loads. I am afraid I've been going through a few family problems but in-between the rows I managed to write this up. I hope you like it. VOA1. Xx.
"And there have, yet again, been mystery sightings of a man who looks a lot like the homicidal maniac, Sherlock Holmes, who made mysteries for himself to solve and then committed suicide. Whether these sighting are genuine or not are debatable but..." I read as I flicked to the middle of the London Times whilst I was sat in the dreadfully cold bus station, waiting for my bus. There were always articles concerning Sherlock in the press. I doubted if any of them were real but it still brought me hope he had somehow survived the fall.
'Is anyone sitting here?' a man said, around my age, with ebony hair framing his angular face which was partially masked by a pair of sunglasses- this was more than a bit suspicious as it was the middle of January. The rest of his body was covered with an odd concoction of clothing including a pair of bright yellow trousers and a pink and blue stripy cardigan (which I swore was meant for teenage girls.)
'No' I said 'please do sit down.'
'Thanks' the man said, planting himself next me as he threw me a oddly forced smile.
'That's okay, my bus isn't due for ages yet and to be honest I was getting a bit bored' I said 'so you from around here?'
'I used to live here but a few things happened and so I moved away for a while.
'Oh really?' I said 'so what do you do for a living then?'
'I'm self-employed,' he said.
'I bet that's nice not having to work for anyone!' I said.
'And you?' he asked but he didn't seem to be very interested in the answer 'an army doctor,' I said 'so, what's your name?'
'Bradley,' he said 'and yours?'
'John Watson,' I said
'Well, it was nice to meet you John,' he said 'but I best me off,' and with that the man walked away. I didn't watch where he went as I was more interested in the article about Sherlock.
I turned back to the London Times where I continued to read the article on Sherlock. And then it hit me.
'Wait!' I yelled flinging myself across the bus station (an action which received a few "tuts" from a couple of OAPs). But he was long gone and I'd never know of "Bradley" was Sherlock in disguise.
