rabidsamfan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rabidsamfan) wrote2011-07-21 09:04 am
rabidsamfan) wrote2011-07-21 09:04 am
Night
Mary has waited before, back when John would come home in the pre-dawn hours, flushed and happy. They would breakfast together on eggs and bacon and another new story of mystery and adventure with Sherlock Holmes.
Now she waits knowing that John's feet are taking him anywhere but Baker Street. That he is walking endlessly, restlessly, seeking the exhaustion that will render him numb to grief. When they breakfast it will be on tea and toast and silence. Perhaps he will consent to a nap before his patients begin to arrive.
John walks through darkness.
And Mary waits for dawn.
Another prompt from wwoes. Poetry again!
Now she waits knowing that John's feet are taking him anywhere but Baker Street. That he is walking endlessly, restlessly, seeking the exhaustion that will render him numb to grief. When they breakfast it will be on tea and toast and silence. Perhaps he will consent to a nap before his patients begin to arrive.
John walks through darkness.
And Mary waits for dawn.
Another prompt from wwoes. Poetry again!
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Dude. This is so friggin poignant. Talk about post "The Falls" in a nutshell. Like a shower of pain.
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