Watson sighed; collapsing into his desk chair, the leather and mahogany one he loved so.
In his study, the place where he could attain some semblance of peace, he sat quietly and glanced around suspiciously before unlocking one of the desk drawers. He pulled out a familiar leather pouch, containing newly acquired narcotics.
The pouch left to him
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Comments 4
In case it doesn't seem obvious, I loved this very much. I hope you write more drabbles.
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I figured that, as you said, the pouch has so much meaning that it would give an eerie aura to the fic. And it would almost just make Watson revert into what Holmes would do in a similar situation, use drugs.
I really enjoy writing drabbles because it forces you to say a lot without many words; it's a challenge but it is fun, especially if the result is satisfying.
Thank you so much for your kind words. I love this fandom, people are so nice! :D
I hope to write more soon too. I am enjoying the prompts here and hope to complete more.
Thanks again, you are very kind.
Emma
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Emma
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