Here's another twenty sentences...


[21] Memory

The terrible thing about his mind is that it never forgets, so when he sees a grotesque murder scene, he remembers every single detail all the way down to how many globules there were and where exactly each one was located in the pool of blood that had gathered around and under the victim, and he is left wondering why he hasn't gone mad yet from his photographic memory.

[22] War

War, of all the many possibilities that could separate him from his friend (and all of which they had the power to reunite themselves again at their leisure) he had not even considered that likelihood at all and it had parted them like the red curtain of an opera beginning its opening act and neither he or his friend could close it again until the powers that be decided they had had enough of the sickening and deadly opera.

[23] Faint

He had fainted once, when his best friend had returned from the grave, but never before had he ever seen Sherlock Holmes faint; so when the great detective had done so upon reading those insidious words from the tax man auditing him for several thousand pounds in back taxes during his three year hiatus, Doctor Watson was uncertain as to whether he should be amused or concerned for his friend.

[24] Trapped

He knew there was a reason he hated the circus and when that reason reinforced it in the shape of a white clown who had held a gun at their backs at point blank range to usher them into the occupied animal cage and thus effectively trapping them with an irritated tiger, he said to his friend, "We are not accepting the next circus case again, Holmes."

[25] Stab

When he saw from his vantage point outside, the silhouette of Mister Holmes vigorously stabbing something in his rooms, Lestrade had rushed into the flat with the thought that the detective had finally gone barmy and was committing murder, but when he arrived amongst much protesting from Missus Hudson and saw that it was only a pound of flesh from the meat market that the detective was killing he could only exclaim in irritation, "Mister Holmes, what in bloody hell do you think you're doing to that steak?"

[26] Blood

He tried scrubbing it off, the anathema to who he was, 'So much blood, not my blood but the blood of someone else, someone I had killed in cold blood and anger in order to protect him,' and when it would not come off even though it had been long removed, only the gentle hand of his friend on his arms stilling his frantic efforts could bring him out of the delusional daze he had found himself in.

[27] Fight

There was a simple grace about the way Holmes fought, almost as if he were an agile cat lunging and pawing at his opponents, dodging and diving their strikes, that it was a wonder none of the gamblers bidding against him had never realized until it was too late and over that he was the superior fighter.

[28] Effort

It took a great deal of effort to rile the elder Holmes from his armchair and away from his habitual routine, so when said Holmes actually stood up faster than what was thought possible for a man of his size and quickly stalked toward his younger sibling with the intent to bring brotherly harm to him, Sherlock Holmes bolted faster out of the Diogenes Club like a man with Hell on his heels and cried, "Enjoy All Fool's Day, my dear Mycroft!"

[29] Exhaustion*

Death Valley reminded him of Afghanistan but worse, it had a way to sap the very strength out of a man with every step and hours later after having been left for dead by the cattle rustlers whom he and Holmes had been spying on up in the Sans Gabriel Mountains of California; he collapsed to his hands and knees and felt completely and utterly exhausted and wanted nothing more to do than rest even though he knew it would be his death.

[30] Limp

He despised Holmes vices, loathed them even and hated it whenever the man indulged in them; so when he saw the man laying limp over the settee in a drug induced stupor once more, he turned around and grabbed his coat and hat and walked back out of their Baker Street flat to walk off the temper that was rising before he would return to tend to his idiot friend.

[31] Struggle

The little creature curiously and persistently wiggled its way onto the unsuspecting human as it lay on the settee, quietly slumbering away the hot summer afternoon, and it was all Watson could do as he struggled not to laugh as his friend yelped in surprise when the bull pup decided to greet the detective with a very wet, slobbery kiss.

[32] Stranded

"How was I suppose to know they were more than your average highwaymen?" complained the detective as they stood in the middle of nowhere of Northern England, shivering as cold rain pelted around them in a heavy torrent and thoroughly soaking their already soaked shirts and trousers while his friend glared at him in anger and a bit incredulously.

[33] Promise

He promised he would be there, to always be at his back on whatever case he dragged his loyal friend on, but ever since the insufferable man had met Miss Mary Morstan, he found that his friend had broken that promise and as he struggled to get out of the tightly knotted hemp rope before the madmen could return to slit his throat, he swore that he would do everything he could to make Watson keep that promise again, even if it meant sabotaging his relationship with that woman.

[34] Fear

"For the love of God, Mister Holmes, do not let go!" cried Lestrade while he desperately gripped the detective's outstretched arm, the fear of falling to his death clearly visible on the ferret-faced Inspector, and as Sherlock Holmes tried to hold on to the man by one hand until help could arrive, he wondered again why Lestrade had chased Mad Anderson into the clock tower alone.

[35] Swim

If there was one lesson his father had taught him well by throwing him into the lake for his first swimming lesson and telling Mycroft not to help despite his cries, it was that one could not rely on others to survive.

[36] Danger

"For a man who is suppose to be observant, you sure can be quite blind to obvious danger, especially when there are signs on these crates that clearly say in big, bold, white lettering 'DANGER: NITROGLYCERIN. DO NOT SHAKE' so I must ask you, Holmes, why in God's name are we hiding here of all places?" this was said just before a bullet ricocheted off of the wall behind them and Holmes had given him a blanched look as he realized his mistake.

[37] Cemetery

He hated cemeteries and not because of the dark, foggy and ghastly setting that they could become but because his friend enjoyed playing pranks on him and thus the next time Sherlock Holmes decided he was going to do so toward his friend again, the detective would find himself asking Missus Hudson for a bag of ice as a remedy to the black eye he now sported.

[38] Honour

Although it was outlawed a few years ago, Holmes was quite willing to let his friend duel the idiot who dared insult Missus Watson's honour, but prevented him anyway at said woman's insistence when she knew Watson was quite willing to throw away his own honour for her sake.

[39] Love

Love was an emotion that Sherlock Holmes balked at and claimed he could do without, but when Doctor Watson found him still standing at his brother's grave hours after the funeral service had been over, he knew that love, love for a brother or love for a friend, was a constant thing in the detective's life.

[40] Cold

The first time he had ever touched a dead corpse, he had not realized how cold they were once the life had left them; but when the first time he had touched the cold and lifeless corpse of his aged friend, he wished for nothing more for the heat to return to Sherlock Holmes and to the room that suddenly dropped several degrees despite the fire in the hearth as the realization that he was now alone in the new century finally hit him.

* This particular prompt is a preview into a story that is currently in the works, The Adventure of the Coyote Charlatan. A summary of the story can be found on my bio.