The Empty Flatshare
After having spent a few days here in New Moore, admiring the scenery, meeting the residents, and adjusting to my new... I guess this is "life" now? I've come to two conclusions:
1) I prefer city life.
2) Everyone on this island is utterly, and completely mad.
Within just hours of my being here, my flat had already been broken into, I had spoken to a character I'd read in books as a boy, met up with some old friends, met a few fans of my work, and found out that my flatmate's arch enemy (I'm being completely serious when I say this, too. Who has arch enemies?) was living here, and is claiming to have been the one to create Sherlock and myself.
Not that we're buying it, mind you, but the fact remains that it happened.
Even more confusing was when Sherlock invited someone over (still my flat, by the way. I haven't gotten official notice of your switching. Get it taken care of!) and had me give him a brief medical examination. Two heartbeats, freezing temperatures, and perfectly alive and well. Apparently he's called "The Doctor" and he's some kind of alien. Alien! In my sitting room! He then begins to tell us about the apparently strange happenings that go on here every night at midnight when time stops. Sherlock says he's looked through the network archives, but I haven't gotten that far yet. I'm still coming to terms with aliens.
There are some things which require looking into very soon, and Sherlock and I hope to begin getting to the bottom of these queer things happening and disrupting the lives of the good people here. I've been thinking of applying to the local hospital or seeing if there's a private surgery that needs some help, but with a population this size, it doesn't seem likely. The hospital might be my best bet, but I don't believe that Sherlock will have any of it. Anything that might be convenient for me is often times a hindrance for him, as though he needs me available at all hours, whenever he's had a revelation or a case. Quite frankly, I'm glad that I showed up here. Having him wandering the city alone and subjecting some other poor sod to his particular personality quirks and habits would just be cruel. I do take thanks in the form of a cheque, if anyone is interested.
1) I prefer city life.
2) Everyone on this island is utterly, and completely mad.
Within just hours of my being here, my flat had already been broken into, I had spoken to a character I'd read in books as a boy, met up with some old friends, met a few fans of my work, and found out that my flatmate's arch enemy (I'm being completely serious when I say this, too. Who has arch enemies?) was living here, and is claiming to have been the one to create Sherlock and myself.
Not that we're buying it, mind you, but the fact remains that it happened.
Even more confusing was when Sherlock invited someone over (still my flat, by the way. I haven't gotten official notice of your switching. Get it taken care of!) and had me give him a brief medical examination. Two heartbeats, freezing temperatures, and perfectly alive and well. Apparently he's called "The Doctor" and he's some kind of alien. Alien! In my sitting room! He then begins to tell us about the apparently strange happenings that go on here every night at midnight when time stops. Sherlock says he's looked through the network archives, but I haven't gotten that far yet. I'm still coming to terms with aliens.
There are some things which require looking into very soon, and Sherlock and I hope to begin getting to the bottom of these queer things happening and disrupting the lives of the good people here. I've been thinking of applying to the local hospital or seeing if there's a private surgery that needs some help, but with a population this size, it doesn't seem likely. The hospital might be my best bet, but I don't believe that Sherlock will have any of it. Anything that might be convenient for me is often times a hindrance for him, as though he needs me available at all hours, whenever he's had a revelation or a case. Quite frankly, I'm glad that I showed up here. Having him wandering the city alone and subjecting some other poor sod to his particular personality quirks and habits would just be cruel. I do take thanks in the form of a cheque, if anyone is interested.