Meeting a New Friend
-Watson's POV-
I paused at one shop that had a variety of things—from glass décor to kites. As I looked over a shelf a model boat caught my eye. I'll never know why—maybe I wanted to sail away for awhile.
"Looking for anything in particular?" a clerk asked in a low staccato voice.
"I'm just browsing," I replied, smiling.
"That's a nice one. We—my brother and I—found two down in the cellar of our parents' home. That's where most of this stuff comes from."
"I haven't seen this shop before. Are you new here?" I asked.
"Yes. My brother and I just opened a week ago. There's pretty decent business around here. We have rooms above the shop and like our neighbors."
"I live nearby with a friend of mine, Sherlock Holmes," I said.
"Well then you must be Dr. Watson! I've heard about you two from some of the neighbors," the man said, offering his hand. "I'm Sam Weaver. My brother's name is Tom."
I shook his hand and smiled. "It's a pleasure."
"The pleasure's all mine. I have wanted to meet you since I first heard of you," Mr. Weaver said.
"Heard of me?"
"Yes, we've been told about you and Holmes by some customers."
After a long and pleasant chat, I left with the model boat.