My Stupid Stories

When I glance over my blogs and photos of myself and Sherlock between the years ’04 and ’15, I am faced by so many which present strange and interesting features that it is no easy matter to know which to choose and which to leave. Some have previously seen light in my blogging, and others would not be deemed suitable for the musings about my dear friend, whilst a few would identify her kindly nature that betrays the aloof and analytical body that she wishes to portray to the world. This particular story will do just this.

The year ’15 had furnished us with a multitude of work, resulting in her resettlement in Ireland and my fast decline in health and the resultant confinement to this wretched perambulation contraption; these two facts bear no correlation, but remain noteworthy for the purposes of the scene. Sherlock had since purchased a substantial property, acquired some Strange objects to fascinate her and begun a collection of historical automobiles which in some otherworldly fashion crossed to the other side once in her possession. All these I may sketch out at some future date, but none of them present such singular features as the strange train of circumstances which I have now taken up my pen to describe.

It was New Years Day of ’16, and as a coincidence also my 36th birthday. All day the wind had screamed and the rain had beaten against the windows, so that even here in the sheltered Downs of the South we were forced to raise our minds for the instant from the routine of life and to recognise the presence of those great elemental forces which shriek at mankind through the bars of his civilisation, like untamed beasts in a cage. My mood had reflected that of the weather, having been detained from my bed by our guests the night previous to celebrate the appearance of the New Year. With much fuss and confusion, I agreed to join my gathered family members that morning and acknowledge the passing of another year on this earth. I was presented with a most unusual gift by Mr Geek containing a cryptic message within the intricate silver workings of a beautiful necklace. I identified the chemical composition as dopamine with haste and assumed that this was a reference to my current use of the painkilling substance morphine, to which dopamine is so closely linked. This necklace offered me a clue to things which I had not the presence of mind to see.

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As evening drew in, the storm grew higher and louder, and the wind cried and sobbed like a child in the chimney. I received a message from my dear absent friend wishing me well with a “I hope you have a happy birthday Sherlock”, supposedly alluding to the evenings entertainment as well as our pen names for each other. Perhaps it was my contrary mood, but with I as Watson, this was not wholly accurate. Being aware of the imminent requirement to leave my residence in order to attend a social event some miles away at the theatre, I was very much inclined to cry like the child in the chimney myself.

Looking directly at Mr Geek who was busying himself readying my clothes for the evening, I said “I am tired my dear. Do you think it wise to go out this evening?”.

“Watson! We have made fast plans and we will not dissapoint the others” He scolded, and continued to help me dress. I determined that I would wear both my new necklace and bracelet which was half of a whole that I had shared with Sherlock the Christmas hence. On affixing my necklace, I discovered that my bracelet had vanished from my bedside cabinet and was nowhere to be seen.

It was with a heavy heart, and an empty wrist that we departed for the theatre at which we were to watch the annual Moffat production which I had previously enjoyed each year with Sherlock. The loss of this simple silver piece ignited a sense of loss that had previously been well hidden.

The collection of my sister-in-law and her good man served to lighten my spirits as we travelled to our destination. “Will there be additional content, do you think?” Suggested Ms Bouffet.

“I would believe so.”

“I hope” she said, “that the content may be earlier than that for the general populous. Or at the least with additional detail.”

“The timing would indeed suggest so”

My conversation was lacking and as such was noted by my travelling companions who asked after my health. I was indeed in a substantial volume of discomfort and explained that my demeanour was due to the ineffectual medication. I did not allude to my earlier emotional state over a simple bracelet as this would have made me appear quite unhinged.

Upon our arrival at our destination, I spent some considerable time talking with Ms Bouffet’s good gentleman, discussing several shared interests and his plans for future detective work. Engrossed in this most fascinating of conversations, I was to be surprised my a pair of hands appearing over my eyes!

Initially fearful as my vision was robbed from me, my emotions were quick to change upon hearing a familiar voice from behind asking “Did you miss me?”.

Refusing to believe my own senses, I turned my chair around and discovered that trusting my reactions was a fruitful venture. “Sherlock!” Cried I.

“Hello Watson.”

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My beloved Sherlock had flown hundreds of miles over the New Year festivities at at the behest of Mr Geek to surprise me at my own birthday gathering. I could not have been happier.

The group, Sherlock & I located our seats at the first opportunity laden with a sugar coated feast that would see us through several performances and settled on to thoroughly enjoy the visual and cerebral on screen delights bestowed upon us by Moffat & Gatis. We were not to be dissapointed and whilst I may not be physically able to move to the edge of my seat anymore, nonetheless there I remained.

As the evening drew to its inevitable end, the mood remained high. It would seem that all were aware of this plan and had played their own parts, sending messages wishing a Happy New Year “from afar” and leaving discreet clues.
I had been the only one not to put each of the pieces together and deduce their plan.

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“And necklace with dopamine.” Explained Mr Geek, “So you will always be happy.”

Sherlock looked at me with her eyes as sharp as ever. “Elementary, my dear Watson”.

Footnote:

My Dearest Sherlock,

Thank you for flying all the way here just to see me on my birthday. I couldn’t have asked for a better present and seeing you utterly made my day. Extra points for spending the following day in ridiculous onsies and making plans to take over the world.

I also owe thanks to Messrs Geeks for buying tickets, looking after children & keeping such an enormous secret. I will be over to see you soon larger & hairier Geek and will give you such a hug! I miss you just as much xx

Putting several hundred miles and a sea between us doesn’t stop the four of us being the best of friends.

Yours as ever & without condition.

Watson.

For authenticity, and a particularly nerdy reference to the episode, some snippets were taken and adapted from The Five Orange Pips from the original Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

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Novel in November – Obsessing over Word Counts. @NaNoWriMo

Well, we’re over the 3000 word mark, but to hit that all important 50’000 words I need to produce at least 1740 words each day! At my current rate, I’ll be finished by 30th December. That’s not a novel in November is it?

More caffeine anyone?

https://thehippygeek.wordpress.com/novel-in-november/

A Novel in November – Begin at the Beginning, The Ending is Some Way Off! @NaNoWriMo

I’m writing this in chunks, but I fear I’m never going to hit the 50’000 words by the end of the month at this rate. My current style is write the chapter. Acknowledge that I appear to be swinging wildly between past and present tense and agree to sort out details like tense and grammar on draft two.

For now, it’s quantity over quality. This way, at least I have the gist of what is going on through the book.

Ooh. It’s a book. I’m 33 and I’m writing a book. Another book in fact. That makes me practically a grown up.

Current progress is in the Novel in November Page