summersong123

I hadn’t meant to end up a criminal again. For a while, I had been on the straight and narrow, working my way up through the ranks of the army by honest means. I should have know that he’d find me, that he’d be waiting. After a couple of months hunting tigers, I caught one that had a tattoo on its ear. It was a grid reference, coupled with two letters: SM. Being deliberately without a GPS, or any navigation tools, I found my way back to the road and nicked a map from a petrol station. My curiosity had been awakened, and it would not rest until it had been satisfied. When nearing the map reference, I picked a suitable tree

“You were the best distraction, and now I don’t even have you.” Lies. But then he was in the business of lies, after all. Sherlock Holmes had never been the best distraction. He should have been – he was the most intelligent other human being of his acquaintance. The best rival, the best enemy. Really, everyone should be an enemy, and the best enemy should be the best distraction. That was how it had always been. The thrill was in being the strongest, the cleverest, the best. But it wasn’t. The hand on his shoulder, the voice in his ear. The loyalty, the steadiness. The gasps, the moaning of his name. Those wer

Soon, in a land far from some, five men alone but for her set down their blades. Later, the men having fallen into slumber, all six were taken against her will. She looked on with growing alarm as they were carried away, sweating in the desert sun. There had been half a score. The storm still rages. Sand against sand, her warnings met only with silence. The men remained, asleep. Those taken felt nothing, as they were wont to do, but in the absence of the closest star they settled for those of less importance to their stunted abductors to reflect. Sheathed in leather but not held captive, they paid no thought to the constant change of nigh id