The Hill, the House and Holmes

From a distance, it looked like a small hill. I wanted to take a few photos of the old yellow house at the top. The house has been abandoned since i can remember. I’m twenty seven. It has an aura about it. Not like it’s haunted, though there are rumors. It looks remarkably neat and stable for a home that hasn’t been lived in for well over twenty years. But i’ve been walking up this hill for quite awhile now.. at least ten minutes, and it’s steeper than i thought. I keep walking, but it’s almost as if house takes a few steps back the closer i get.  I’m out of breath, and i’m in good shape. I run four miles a day. This is weird. I’m not sure why i’ve never come close to the house before this, or climbed the hill.

Now i’m only thirty yards from it.  I realize it’s not yellow but a pale shade of blue.  There are window boxes at the first story windows. They’re filled with pink geraniums. I look behind me toward the bottom of the hill, but there’s no hill. I’m sweaty, and my heart is pounding. I turn to face the house again.  But i’m not thirty yards away.. I’m right at the front door. I’m incredibly thirsty, and i no longer have my camera. Did i drop it along the way?  Where did it go?  There’s an address plate.. brass.. to the right of the door. It says 221B. I look behind me again. The street is only about fifty feet away. There are no cars or people. It’s deserted.  Obviously i’m lost. No idea how i got here. I lift the brass knocker and knock three times. I only wait a few seconds before a man opens it.

He says.. come in Miss Stephens. Mr. Holmes has been waiting. You look tired and thirsty. Please come in to rest. I’ll pour you a drink. Sherlock needs your help to find the Three Fates. They’ve been missing for six months now…



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