Prompt #37: Walk
From the moment infant Sherlock overturned his bassinet at the tender age of eight-weeks, Mycroft Holmes had distastefully acknowledged that little brother was destined to always be moving. His prognosis was not disappointed. Sherlock never walked where was space to run, never waited upon slower classmates, and chafed impatiently whenever the slightest delay upset his ever-so-busy schedule. Even in adulthood, so rapidly did the man move that life itself sometimes was lost behind.
Now he watched through the cab-front, as his brother walked sedately, keeping a cautionary hand at his friend's elbow while crossing the chaotic thoroughfare.
And he smiled.
"How did you get here?"
"I passed you in a hansom."
- The Greek Interpreter