Okay, people, I'm really REALLY tired of not able to get my italics AND
underlines through. So now I'm putting '' around every thought, titles,
emphasis, and whatever it is should have quotes, underline, or italics on
them.
Btw, Anneliese, even though I love the way you respond to my chapters one-
by-one, your fervent is rather scary. *Grinning nervously* Don't let my
stupid comment interfere you, Please review more.
Geez, Moonrose, a "man-whore?" *gasping while laughing* I even wouldn't go
that far. Glad you like my story, though. I just kinda wanna ask on your
comment of my "lovely grasp?" You see, I'm very dense when reading other
people's "love grasp," for example, their beautifully done reviews.
Enjoy . . . umm, btw, best thanks to my wonderful reviewers (that's all of you) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He splashed cold water on his face and some splattered onto his hair. He stared at himself in the mirror. The pale-faced young man with shiny black hair stared back at him with daunting grey eyes. His eyes and nose were red, making him look almost comical. It was a face that he had stuck with for the course of his life, yet he knew nothing about. He traced the unfamiliar lines at the corners of his mouth that showed the stubbornness that did not belong to the raven-headed boy bouncing at his mother's knees. He then ran his pointy fingertips at the edges of the dark rings under his eyes, until he abruptly stopped himself and left the room. Far away from the mirror that shows the stranger who was him.
"Sherlock, are you all right?" he was greeted by Lord Wilkins the instant he was out of the facilities. "You look tired," he nodded to that comment, "you know, men of our status are nothing but social animals. I'm sorry I dragged you in." he put a hand on his slim shoulder, which twitched briefly at the fatherly touch.
"It's all right, sir. It isn't such a bad gathering. I'm actually enjoying it." He managed a smile that wouldn't even fool his father.
Lord Wilkins shook his head and laughed, "don't lie. Come on, let's go hide from those monsters in the library. I've got the newest edition of 'Psychological Investigations'."
Holmes found out that night that Lord Wilkins wasn't so dull after all. He had a whole dimension that was kept from the prying eyes of the society. He was brilliant, graduating from Oxford with top marks. He also told Holmes that he might have become a scientist if not because of his social status.
"I don't see why being a 'lord' would stop you from pursuing what you enjoy."
Wilkins laughed, he laughed until tears came to his eyes, "oh, dear. Excuse me, my dear boy. Oh, how I miss being young!" he slapped his knees, "Pardon me, but some things are not so simple as you'd like them to be." Then he changed the subject, "Oh, look at this: 'New Perspective on the Gaelic Attitudes'."
It was probably the most fun Holmes had in years.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The week after, Holmes showed up for his weekly lesson. Lord Wilkins complained of an arm-ache and invited Holmes to a small walk around his park. It was spring. The freshly bloomed nature greeted them. They started out at the mansion, going south, crossing a small singing creek, and landed at a vastly dense forest. He was a little frightened at the sight of this huge unyielding monster of green, but he bit the inside of his lower lip and followed his companion.
"Careful up ahead, my boy," the old man whispered, "look," he pointed. It was a giant beehive between the branches of two ancient evergreen trees. The tiny winged insects flying in and out, buzzing loudly. "Very curious creatures these are, my boy. With no mind of their own, they toiled day and night only to build a greater colony."
"Maybe it's better that they have no mind of their own," Holmes whispered dreamily. He was captivated by the industrious spectacle of these wondrous yet small creatures. So much like us, he thought.
Lord Wilkins looked surprised, "whatever do you mean by that, my boy?"
He was suddenly embarrassed, "it's, it's just that people sometimes have too much of free mind, that they destroy themselves more than they construct." And sometimes they have too less of a free mind to think for themselves while letting those closest to them hurt them.
"Have you ever thought of the queen?" Lord Wilkins spoke as he did not hear his answer, "She was called a queen but she was nothing more than an egg machine to the colony, the workers. Who is really benefited here? No one in particular, but their race as a general. Maybe Darwin is right. A fit society in which there are no pleasure is more advantage to survive."
"Sir?" he swallowed, "do you think it's better to live unemotionally yet productively, as in the case of the worker bees?"
"That's what Brutus did, he lived by the dictations of reason and responsibility, and he failed miserably."
"But, but," Holmes' face suddenly turned red, "he was following the wrong paths. If he had killed Marcus Anthony when he could, the story would end differently."
"Nevertheless, he believed he was following the right path. One can never be sure of what is right and what is not."
"What if there can be a system developed to make sure one's reason were on the right path?" Holmes said without thinking. It had been on his mind for many years now. The perfect reasoning system. "Sir? Sir?"
"That is rather brilliant, my boy. If such a system could be developed, human kind would owe much to you, my boy."
Enjoy . . . umm, btw, best thanks to my wonderful reviewers (that's all of you) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He splashed cold water on his face and some splattered onto his hair. He stared at himself in the mirror. The pale-faced young man with shiny black hair stared back at him with daunting grey eyes. His eyes and nose were red, making him look almost comical. It was a face that he had stuck with for the course of his life, yet he knew nothing about. He traced the unfamiliar lines at the corners of his mouth that showed the stubbornness that did not belong to the raven-headed boy bouncing at his mother's knees. He then ran his pointy fingertips at the edges of the dark rings under his eyes, until he abruptly stopped himself and left the room. Far away from the mirror that shows the stranger who was him.
"Sherlock, are you all right?" he was greeted by Lord Wilkins the instant he was out of the facilities. "You look tired," he nodded to that comment, "you know, men of our status are nothing but social animals. I'm sorry I dragged you in." he put a hand on his slim shoulder, which twitched briefly at the fatherly touch.
"It's all right, sir. It isn't such a bad gathering. I'm actually enjoying it." He managed a smile that wouldn't even fool his father.
Lord Wilkins shook his head and laughed, "don't lie. Come on, let's go hide from those monsters in the library. I've got the newest edition of 'Psychological Investigations'."
Holmes found out that night that Lord Wilkins wasn't so dull after all. He had a whole dimension that was kept from the prying eyes of the society. He was brilliant, graduating from Oxford with top marks. He also told Holmes that he might have become a scientist if not because of his social status.
"I don't see why being a 'lord' would stop you from pursuing what you enjoy."
Wilkins laughed, he laughed until tears came to his eyes, "oh, dear. Excuse me, my dear boy. Oh, how I miss being young!" he slapped his knees, "Pardon me, but some things are not so simple as you'd like them to be." Then he changed the subject, "Oh, look at this: 'New Perspective on the Gaelic Attitudes'."
It was probably the most fun Holmes had in years.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The week after, Holmes showed up for his weekly lesson. Lord Wilkins complained of an arm-ache and invited Holmes to a small walk around his park. It was spring. The freshly bloomed nature greeted them. They started out at the mansion, going south, crossing a small singing creek, and landed at a vastly dense forest. He was a little frightened at the sight of this huge unyielding monster of green, but he bit the inside of his lower lip and followed his companion.
"Careful up ahead, my boy," the old man whispered, "look," he pointed. It was a giant beehive between the branches of two ancient evergreen trees. The tiny winged insects flying in and out, buzzing loudly. "Very curious creatures these are, my boy. With no mind of their own, they toiled day and night only to build a greater colony."
"Maybe it's better that they have no mind of their own," Holmes whispered dreamily. He was captivated by the industrious spectacle of these wondrous yet small creatures. So much like us, he thought.
Lord Wilkins looked surprised, "whatever do you mean by that, my boy?"
He was suddenly embarrassed, "it's, it's just that people sometimes have too much of free mind, that they destroy themselves more than they construct." And sometimes they have too less of a free mind to think for themselves while letting those closest to them hurt them.
"Have you ever thought of the queen?" Lord Wilkins spoke as he did not hear his answer, "She was called a queen but she was nothing more than an egg machine to the colony, the workers. Who is really benefited here? No one in particular, but their race as a general. Maybe Darwin is right. A fit society in which there are no pleasure is more advantage to survive."
"Sir?" he swallowed, "do you think it's better to live unemotionally yet productively, as in the case of the worker bees?"
"That's what Brutus did, he lived by the dictations of reason and responsibility, and he failed miserably."
"But, but," Holmes' face suddenly turned red, "he was following the wrong paths. If he had killed Marcus Anthony when he could, the story would end differently."
"Nevertheless, he believed he was following the right path. One can never be sure of what is right and what is not."
"What if there can be a system developed to make sure one's reason were on the right path?" Holmes said without thinking. It had been on his mind for many years now. The perfect reasoning system. "Sir? Sir?"
"That is rather brilliant, my boy. If such a system could be developed, human kind would owe much to you, my boy."