PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields
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.
Posted in Blog, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Short Story, Uncategorized
Tagged Doctor Who, Humour, Sherlock Holmes, Silicon Valley, Stinkweed, Tequila, Time Machines
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.
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.
Friday Fictioneers – Friday 23rd March
Photo Prompt by Björn Rudberg
Dreaming of the Tardis.
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.
Next time round, I will push him off and jump to jolt myself awake.
100 Word Wednesday – Week 28
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.
Posted in 100 word wednesday, Blog, Short Story, Uncategorized
Tagged Comic-con, Doctor Who, Flash Fiction, Humour, Mid-West, Sherlock Holmes, Short Stories, Stoneware, Writing
Drifting in Time.100 Word Wednesday
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.’
‘Precisely, Watson. The Time Lord himself.’
Posted in 100 word wednesday, Blog, Flash Fiction, Uncategorized
Tagged Doctor Who, Flash Fiction, Humour, Kurzgeschichte, Mystery, Sherlock Holmes, Short Stories, Writing