Short Story In English

"I'm afraid so Mrs. Hudson. He hasn't stirred from that spot ever since he got a text from Lestrade, vaguely outlining his worst fear. Which of course for Sherlock is like displaying it in bold."

I closed my eyes and brought my attention back to my body shaking. I inhaled deeply in an attempt to gain control over my own body but quickly, I learned that it was useless. My stiff hands clenched tight, bunching up my old sheets and pulling it closer

“I will tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone. Do you promise?” He asked again wanting to trust her.

John stopped and pressed his hand against the wall, leaning against his and furrowing his brow. "Yes, okay, glad to know that's clear." He said calmly; then with a short, sarcastic laugh added, "Where the hell are they, Sherlock? Where the hell. Did you put the groceries. Everything in the fridge, Sherlock? Where did you put it?"

I furrow my brow. “How would you know?” She liberates one of my hands to allow me to hold it palm up.” Wait, don't tell me, I'd rather not know.”

“I’m not sure.” Fresh tears collected in her eyes and she dropped her head into her hands. “I’m too unwell to go on. I’m

"It's just... I don't want her to live with the guilt of being some pony who would harm others. I don't want her to go through what I've been through."

The sun begins to set on an average Monday in downtown Prescott. The earth produces a clean, floral scent. Flowers bursting with joy for the precious gift of hydration. Bystanders bent over in approval at the content, stratified flowers. The clouds paint the sky like petite sponges drifting in the light breeze. Cicadas hum obnoxiously in the distance. Random tourists head quickly turned as sirens roll past the church in an extremely urgent fashion. A massive dull, white tent supplies an abundance of cool shade cover for what is going to be a gathering. Men, women, and children flood under the canopy for relief and peace. Before finding their seats they make their way to the dessert and coffee table. An assortment of treats

“What I’m about to say is easier said than done. We need to remain calm, keep our wits about ourselves. Try to fight the potion.”

He rapped on the wood and said, very calmly, "I know you're in there, Sherlock. Open up."

Sherlock handed one of the guys his card. “If you see him again or someone of a suspicious nature again around her, you can reach me at that number.”

Edward tried protesting as best he could, but it wasn’t easy to fight an eight year old redhead who was totally set on getting her way. He usually found himself being dragged to places he never thought he’d step foot in. He’d sit on the floor of a McDonald’s playplace because all the seats were taken by middle aged moms and watch Maya go up and down the slide over and over.

“If you have something to say to her you should say it. I can tell how you feel about her.”

One day in a college water pipe there was a peanut named peter, this peanut was special, he lived in a Skippy brand peanut butter jar in a city named Aquaville. One day he met a donut named Dylan. Peter met Dylan when he was walking down to the local coffee shop. That day was not normal in his usual seat was sitting a donut. As Peter looked around at him the donut turned and glanced at him and he said hi and ever since that day they were good friends. After about a year of working at the local grocery store he discovered something very wrong with the city. In his daily walk down to the gym, he saw a sewer hatch open and he couldn’t resist but to explore. He loved to explore he climbed down the ladder and walked a ways down when he saw the

Harry must 've known they were talking about Dumbledore. His entire demeanor changed in an instant, becoming as close lipped and hostile as he 'd been when