Tag Archives: Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock Holmes and the Time Lord

 

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

More 100 Word Stories from Friday Fictioneers, here.

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PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Sherlock Holmes and the Time Lord

‘So, it’s true.’ Watson wiped the condensation from the window. ‘The last cough of winter comes in May.’
‘The feasts of the Ice Saints.’ Holmes removed the needle from his arm.
‘One day,’ said Watson, ‘that opium will kill you, and I can’t save you.’
‘Ah Watson, I’m already dead.’ Holmes laughed. ‘Life is relative. Now, where is she?’ He closed his eyes. ‘Where! damn you woman, where?’
Watson sipped his Earl Grey and stared at the pale face of Holmes. He was delirious and mumbling on about a “Tardis” and “The Doctor” hidden beneath the Athabasca Glacier in Canada.

Free Ebooks – Short Stories Adventure and All.

An opportunity to read my short story books, they are free on Amazon this week.

Author Page Amazon.

Let me know what you think, which was the best of the bunch?

I am working on a new anthology – title undecided – I am aiming to produce 300 pages based on a  theme of lost love. It will not be a romance collection, instead it will be a series based on real life events.

Enjoy.

I received a lovely comment from a reader about my book, Missing.

She found the description of the location, setting and the farming community authentic and real. This, she believed, could only have been written by someone from within that environment.

I felt humbled by her enthusiasm.

A Warning Anagram

Friday Fictioneers – inlinkz

PHOTO PROMPT © Randy Mazie

A Warning Anagram

‘Whoever created time.’ Holmes mumbled as sweat dripped from his chin. ‘Must control the universe.’
I sprinted to catch up. ‘It’s abandoned. You were wrong Holmes.’
‘No, Watson, those walls conceal the Tardis.’ He wiped his brow. ‘See, a warning; Transgression S – S for Sherlock.’
I stared at his intellectual smugness forming laughter lines by his eyes. The dust burned in my lungs, and Holmes’s grin prompted me to draw my pistol. If I shot him, I’d be free from this mad quest?
‘Yes, let’s be careful,’ Holmes said. ‘We may have overstepped the Time Lord’s patience.’

Sherlock Holmes escapes Corfe Castle

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Escape from Corfe Castle.

Holmes is missing, and the last train waits.
We came to investigate the torture and murder of three French spies, but found them unperturbed drinking real ale in the Purbeck Arms.
A trick and heinous treachery by Professor Moriarty to lure us to death in the dungeons of the castle.
What is taking Holmes so long?
The scarlet sky; not a good sign. Its dying rays dripping like blood over the castle ruins. Is it the end of Holmes?
What next; a screeching Pterodactyl swooping downwards.
‘Quick, Watson!’ Holmes shouts from the beast. ‘Jump on before the magic wears off.’

Corfe Castle

Sherlock has Disappeared

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

Watson tasted the residue powder on the tip of his tongue, it was tart and acerbic. Holmes! he thought, not again, where has he gone? Think.
Holmes had promised to forget about the Doctor, to relax, have a good night’s sleep, instead he has disappeared, another hunch.

Couldn’t he leave a note—perhaps he has; chain smoking, sniffing coke, tissues, French brandy, and a dog’s bowl? We don’t have a dog! The Yankee candle, he hadn’t seen that before. Where Holmes?
It’s no use; better clean this mess up before Mrs Hudson arrives.
Yes! Hudson Bay, why? Damn you Holmes.

Silicon Valley

 

Friday Fictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Silicon Valley

What a fantastic view, Holmes

Look Watson! the original tree of life and knowledge.

Too late, Holmes, it has withered and died.

Nonsense, we will transport it anew into the valley.

I wonder if the Tequila and Mexican stink-weed has sent Holmes deep into lunacy.

Can’t you see, Holmes, the land is dry, nothing grows.

Silicon ,Watson, from which man will build our future. This tree is the inspiration for generations to build my time machine, bit by bit.

It’s the heat, Holmes, have some water.

From Silicon Valley through the ‘Gates of Time’, I will find the elusive Doctor.

Sherlock seeks Dr Who.

 

Sherlock seeks Dr Who. By request I have added this  new menu heading.

Here you find my Flash Fiction about Sherlock seeking the new Dr Who.

Russell Holmes

Sherlock Holmes Statue in Edinburgh

Included is a Russell Holmes adventure “Murder at the Falls”, for your reading pleasure. This short story is taken from my collection ‘The Case of the Mahjong Dragon” and is included as it is based on the Holmes theme.

Dreaming of the Tardis

Friday Fictioneers – Friday 23rd March

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Photo Prompt by Björn Rudberg

Dreaming of the Tardis.

‘Ambiguous?’
Holmes ignored me and peered through his binoculars. ‘At last we have her lair.’
‘Same sign again, Holmes.’
‘A mere ploy, Watson.’ He pointed to the distant ridge. ‘The Tardis! we have her. Oh boy, Watson, the Doctor is here.’ He strode on along the track.
For the hundredth time the ridge came into view, as we reached the same sign on this same spot.
Is there no escape from this repetitive nightmare? I was dehydrated following Holmes on this circular looped track.
‘The Tardis!’
Next time round, I will push him off and jump to jolt myself awake.

The Doctor

The Doctor

100 Word Wednesday – Week 28

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Image by Bikurgurl

Holmes was immortal, and distraught as he felt like an inanimate antique hoarded by an impulsive collector. He was in a delirious mood and was not making sense in his drug induce daze, mumbling about eternal regeneration and the beginning with no end to an infinitive universe.
“Quick, bring some hot chicken broth,” I called to Mrs Hudson.
Holmes leapt to his feet and sprinted from the room.
’Too late,’ I shouted. Running after him, I caught up and found him in a curiosity shop.
“Watson, we are but dusty relics,” said Holmes, and he blew dark smoke from his obnoxious weed across my face.
“I wish you’d refrain.” I coughed. “Why are we here? Pottery?”
“Why does the Doctor need this stoneware from Old Kent Road?”
“A gift or perhaps an inheritance?”
“Yes, his nostalgia for all things London.”
These days, I was at my wits end with Holmes as he had become obsessed, and I often recoiled from his constant rages, madness and frustrations. He was determined to uncover the identity of the Time Lord, the imposter.
“What does this collection tell you Watson?’
“He is having guests for tea.”
“No Watson, can’t you see his next location is surely eighteen hundreds mid-west.”
“Oh, I like the flowers, a nice feminine touch.”
“Damn Watson! It is a woman!”
“About time.” I chuckled, and couldn’t imagine Holmes with a wife.
“No, no, no.” Holmes fell to his knees. “I’m now searching for an elusive woman.”
I put my hand on his shoulder to console the poor chap. I smiled.

Drifting in Time

Drifting in Time.100 Word Wednesday

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Image by Sandra Jane

My relief; we made it back to the docks. Exhausted, I’ve been rowing with the current ever since the Meridian sank. When? How strange that the harbour is in a dilapidated state and abandoned, all in a space of one week. I sense an eerie chill, of being observed, that bristles the hairs on my neck. This is no welcome and this is not home.

I nudged Holmes awake from his sleep, he is delirious due to his allergy to sunlight and I note his aversion to physical exertion, except puffing of hashish from his pipe. Well, Watson, he had said before we sailed, if I can’t get the true elixir then this potpourri will suffice.
‘We made it Holmes,’ I shouted, glad to be alive.
‘Yes,’ he said and sat up in the boat for a better look. ’We are indeed here, but at the same time we are not.’ He grabbed at his pocket watch and checked the hour. ‘Oh! What year is this? Ah! Doctor, yes yes how very clever.’
‘What!’ I didn’t get his demented drift. ‘Clever?’
‘Oh yes, the Doctor is afoot.’ He grinned. ‘Let’s tread with care.’
‘Who?’
‘Precisely, Watson. The Time Lord himself.’