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"The day of the funeral is cruel in its ordinariness.
The sun hides behind bleached wisps of clouds, the air is lukewarm on his skin, the ground stubbornly refuses to consume John from the feet up."
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After losing his mother to illness, John's family must figure out how to move on with life. John finds comfort in a place he never expected.
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Bookmarked by Londonlawyer
01 Jan 2018
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Closing his eyes, Sherlock allows himself a brief swell of feeling--let’s not put a name on it, just call it a feeling--for his big brother. He knows that when Mycroft opens that steel door again, every man now inside will be a fresh corpse.
The East Wind will take them all, Sherlock thinks fuzzily, before the curtain of sleep descends.
***
Or: After Serbia, Sherlock is Not Good.
Bookmarked by Londonlawyer
30 Aug 2017