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Literature Text
It was a locked room murder. And Sherlock had managed to lock them all in. Happily, the body had already been removed but that still left John, Lestrade and a consulting detective trapped in a cellar.
"OK," said Lestrade. "Someone will notice soon. Let's just make ourselves comfortable and wait."
John leaned back against the wall and Lestrade perched on the freezer. Sherlock wandered around, examining the cellar's contents. Tinned food, light bulbs. Siege supplies. The victim had known he was in danger.
Sherlock turned to discuss this with John, but John was staring at the high ceiling and muttering to himself.
"He doesn't need to because his colleague is a conductor of light… He doesn't bother because he thinks the sun shines out of his own..."
Sherlock looked at him sharply and followed his friend's gaze upwards.
And then the light went out.
With Sherlock standing on a box of baked beans, and Lestrade close at hand in case he slipped, the burnt-out bulb was soon swapped for a fresh one. Electric light was restored just as Donovan opened the door and let daylight in.
John grinned at her. "What?" asked Donovan suspiciously.
"I was just thinking," said John, "at least now I know the answer to the question:
'How many detectives does it take to change a light bulb?'"
"OK," said Lestrade. "Someone will notice soon. Let's just make ourselves comfortable and wait."
John leaned back against the wall and Lestrade perched on the freezer. Sherlock wandered around, examining the cellar's contents. Tinned food, light bulbs. Siege supplies. The victim had known he was in danger.
Sherlock turned to discuss this with John, but John was staring at the high ceiling and muttering to himself.
"He doesn't need to because his colleague is a conductor of light… He doesn't bother because he thinks the sun shines out of his own..."
Sherlock looked at him sharply and followed his friend's gaze upwards.
And then the light went out.
With Sherlock standing on a box of baked beans, and Lestrade close at hand in case he slipped, the burnt-out bulb was soon swapped for a fresh one. Electric light was restored just as Donovan opened the door and let daylight in.
John grinned at her. "What?" asked Donovan suspiciously.
"I was just thinking," said John, "at least now I know the answer to the question:
'How many detectives does it take to change a light bulb?'"
Literature
Escaping with style
There were no blaring sirens or flashing lights as I dashed down the corridors, but there might as well have been. Data streaming across one side of my goggles told me that I had successfully triggered the alarm when I took the hard drive stack. I knew I had four and a half minutes until the security forces arrived. When I reached the security door I was already sending signals to my devices connected into the system. A crude video relay looped images of the empty corridor into the security camera feeds. The data mining box cut the stream of keyword-laden signals with which it had been scattering the building system’s attention. Grinning at my own ingenuity, I hit the unlock button. How many other thieves would have got in by manipulating the mood of a building’s computer systems? But then, how many other thieves understood the emergent emotional states of high end electronics? This was why I'd been hired. The door failed to hiss open. Frowning, I slapped the button again. Still
Literature
sweaterse
when you've a love
in repose,
all quiets
are woven together.
all worries and
worships and
weathering
kept, cared,
covered.
every summer
warms, every winter
draws closer.
and the silences
sweeter than
heaven.
Literature
cladach eachtrach
Our shadows were children
the horizon a nightlight,
my skin Vodka white
in the womb
of the Atlantic,
bioluminescence
like sparks
conducting electricity
strip wire symphony,
naked limbs paired and
easily divided
in the remainder
wading
between constants;
prenatal combination,
the tide rolling in contractions,
and like ships to harbor
it bore us to shore.
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Sherlock fanfiction.
A 221B - a story in 221 words, the final word beginning with "b". 221B form invented by ~KCScribbler (KCS).
My other 221Bs can be found here.
A 221B - a story in 221 words, the final word beginning with "b". 221B form invented by ~KCScribbler (KCS).
My other 221Bs can be found here.
© 2012 - 2024 SCFrankles
Comments3
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Don't know why this hasn't gotten any comments yet. The first two lines alone make it fav-worthy. John's resigned exasperation comes through nicely. And I've always wanted to know how many detectives it takes to screw in a light bulb. 