Ok, here are my rules for the drabbles. 100 words. No less. No more. Write for 15 minutes. You can use my prompt or not, as you wish. Write in whatever language you like. Can be fanfic, original, poetry, non-fiction. The point here is to loosen up. Try not to edit too much. Think of these as imperfect cookies: they may not look totally
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Comments 40
He remembered the melody she used to hum in his ear and the same one she sang on lonely nights beside the cradle when she thought nobody was listening. Her song was sweet, unlike the one that broke his heart now.
For the last time, he longed to hear the joyous song, that had been her.
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Good thing I've got the antidote right after yours. ♥
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Sooo I really needed some angst, sorry:)
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Walking softly, as Arthur had taught him, he honed in on the origin. He noticed light filtering through the trees and approached. Bending branches out of the way, he saw a unicorn, standing in the clearing, sunlight playing on the silver horn, wending a melody through the forest.
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They all sing.
From the rumbling basso profundo of the greatest hypergiants, to the mellow tones of the main sequence stars, to the shrill pipings of the tiniest white dwarfs, the stars sing.
This chorus, and the audience too, is nothing less than the universe itself.
Each star is part of it, each planet, each hurtling asteroid, each molecule of gas drifting in infinite space, all adding their own complexities, vibrating in a harmony so vast that it brings reality itself into order.
Whatever may occur on one unimaginably minor planet matters little; the grand music of existence will continue.
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I don't know Sherlock, but I can feel the bitterness in here. So sad.
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Nice capture of Watson's emotions, and Holmes being sensitive to them.
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I love that Sherlock reads John and is willing to give him what he needs here.
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