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( private action/introspection/background )
[It's evening before Sherlock turns on the Journal to address Luceti.
He's sulking in an empty flat on the top floor of Community House Two. A small dish in front of him has twelve cigarette butts -- a cheap American brand -- in it, smoked down to the filters. A thirteenth is half finished and in his hand.
There isn't much to say. There are no explanations to give, deductions to reveal, or clues to interpret. There is just one simple fact.
Perhaps that's why it's so hard to say.]
John Watson's gone.
[It's evening before Sherlock turns on the Journal to address Luceti.
He's sulking in an empty flat on the top floor of Community House Two. A small dish in front of him has twelve cigarette butts -- a cheap American brand -- in it, smoked down to the filters. A thirteenth is half finished and in his hand.
There isn't much to say. There are no explanations to give, deductions to reveal, or clues to interpret. There is just one simple fact.
Perhaps that's why it's so hard to say.]
John Watson's gone.