“Sherlooooock…you really are calling me?” she burst into a loud laugh: “I didn’t even think you had my number - what does my dear brother who does not even know that I am alive want? Were you trying to call someone else? Mmmh…” she hummed softly, as if she was thinking carefully about it: “You need a limb for a case? I am sure I am good only for that for you aren’t you? You don’t even know how my limbs are done, you never come and see me perform, you bad older brother! Or were you calling someone for a booty call, wooOOHMYGOD!"
Well, it’s that time again! I’ve reached my next hundred and so I think it’s about time for another follow forever list! Every blog on this list has managed to both entertain and engage me and you all should follow them. They make life better!
she’s very good at disappearing. it’s a survival tactic & a skill that is essential, sometimes not even for oneself but rather for the people you associate your- self with.
when she’d heard news of sherlock’s death, sudden- ly the rug is pulled from under her feet & she’s left feeling as though the line tethering to this earth has been severed. moriarty knows her weak spot, & she’d wonder if this is all a ploy to coax her out of hiding if not for the fact that he, too, has perished in the falls. of this, she still has her doubts.
she does what she’s always been best at–she moves on. or tries to, until the whispers of the consulting detective returning to baker street turn into shouts &she again wonders if this is all a trap.
but like a drug, like the finest opiates, she is drawn to him. & so as the streetlights are flickering, sun setting low in the sky, she makes her way down the cobbled paths to 221, surreptitiously picking the lock & letting herself into the front hall.
up, up, up, swiftly to the door to the apartment, trying to quiet the sound of her boots as she does, but there’s that creaky step at the top & she freezes, listening.