In one sentence is the spark of a story. Ignite.
Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a memory about this sentence. Write something about this sentence.
Be sure to tag writeworld in your block!
Doesn’t this prompt just smack of a Sherlock episode?
Yes, yes it does. Is it fanfic? Obviously. Not your cup of tea?
Okay, let’s go.
Years passed by for Holmes. Cases were solved. Accolades given. Thinly disguised disparaging remarks made. One thing remained constant however: there was always a Watson in his life. Even after his brother, Lestrade, Sally, and the kindly Mrs. Hudson had all gone, there was always a Watson family member willing to stick their nose into the acerbic Holmes’ life.
At first, naturally, was John Watson who craved the exciting life of chasing criminals and solving cases. John who bullied, cajoled, and tricked Sherlock into becoming a better human being. It chagrinned Sherlock to know that somehow he became that great man Lestrade knew was somewhere inside. Sherlock sighed at the thought of his friend. Two years gone and still making his life…interesting. He convinced Lestrade’s daughter to give him a few cases here and there but nothing like the cases nearly forty years ago.
When John became John and Mary, Sherlock never stood a chance against their constant meddling in his life. But then again, he thought wryly, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. With John’s constant badgering and Mary’s not so subtle attempts to be more sociable. They were able to lure him out of his flat for more than cases. They even had him and Janine make amends.
That was…interesting. But like everything else in life, they drifted apart for good this time and on good terms.
After John and Mary came their children – Alice, Claire, and Hetty. Hetty was Sherlock’s favorite and despite all his protests the girls knew and exploited it with relish. He loved them all, as much as he hated to admit it. Hetty with her father’s stubborn streak and penchant for over-dramatic prose. Hetty with her mother’s sweet face and ability to keep deep dark secrets. Yes, Hetty was his favorite.
Sherlock smirked and added another picture to his wall, a mixture of bullet holes, certificates, and family pictures.
That’s all I’ve got.