Life with Sherlock
John heard the slapping of bare feet going down the hall of 221B Baker Street. He turned to look at his alarm clock, 3:07 it read. John sighed, his roommate Sherlock was apparently having insomnia again. It was an ongoing problem, if John didn’t interfere there might be another horrid experiment, such as the time when Sherlock wanted to grow five different kinds of mold on old food in the kitchen. Even though John wanted to keep sleeping, he knew he would have to interfere for his sanity later.
John came into the sitting room to find Sherlock, sitting on the floor, with a small cage with a bat inside, books spread out all around. “Sherlock for goodness sakes, you need to go back to bed.” John was at the end of his rope. “I was not able to sleep knowing Boswell still has a broken wing, that needs setting. I am close to figuring out how to administer treatment.” Sherlock blankly stated not even looking at John.