What Cannot Be Mended
Feb. 27th, 2008 09:11 amFear and cocaine sustained me in that dreadful flight from Reichenbach Falls, but by Florence I had exhausted my supplies of both and had no sooner managed to send a line to Mycroft than I collapsed near the doorstep of the monastery of Certosa del Galluzzo. For weeks I lay out of my head with brain-fever, in the care of the monks, none of whom - thankfully - could understand my ravings. By the time I found my sanity I had been lost to you for so long that I thought it better to stay lost.
The damage had already been done.
The damage had already been done.