Fill: MotionsicknesssolrosanOctober 10 2011, 21:31:52 UTC
It was too hot on this train. Too hot and it smelled like no-one had opened a window in years, maybe never. Actually, Sherlock thought it was impossible to open these windows. Not that it would be very popular to open a window in the middle of the winter. Well, not that he really cared if the other people in the carriage would think. Had they ever heard of air-conditioning? No, no, the only thing working properly was the radiator
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Re: Fill: Motionsickness (2/2)solrosanOctober 10 2011, 21:32:52 UTC
“We’re there in half an hour,” John said in vain encouragement. Half an hour, five months, it didn’t really matter. Time more or less came to a halt in these situations. There was no end in sight. Ever
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Re: Fill: Motionsickness (2/2)
anonymous
October 10 2011, 22:34:15 UTC
Augh. As a fellow motion-sickness sufferer, I have all too much sympathy for this. And poor Sherlock can't turn his mind off. In my experience thinking about being sick just makes being sick even worse.
I have a ridiculous amount of love for that one phrase, n:s time in just a few minutes.
Fill: SeasicksherlobsessionOctober 11 2011, 18:21:16 UTC
Sherlock tried to concentrate on the big, blue sea outside the window. He tried to ignore that the boat was tossing, and that his nausea just went heavier and heavier. He tried to take deep breaths, inhale, exhale, inhale, and exhale. Memories from a boat ride he had done in his childhood flashed before his eyes. Mummy just sat there, her eyes where closed and it barley looked like she was breathing. Father was irritated, as always, and Mycroft looked at him with disgust. Sherlock himself was sitting next to Mycroft, with a plastic bag in his hands, just in case he’d puke again
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I have a ridiculous amount of love for that one phrase, n:s time in just a few minutes.
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