Saturday, January 23, 2010
I am sharing an appartment with Sherlock Holmes and this other guy. We have no jobs and no money. Soon we will have no electricity, water or anything else and then we will lose the place completely. There is a newspaper on the table with a short story written by Jack London. He has his own column but will be leaving the paper. This was his last story. Sherlock has a great idea to send to the newspaper and wants to send it on nice cardstock with gold trim, except that all of them are either birthday wishes or silly saying. "...lick the cake off my nose." etc... Then I have an idea. Do we still have electrisity? (we've been sitting in the dark the whole time.) "yes, we still have electricity. Will there be a computer that I can use for about 10 min? "yes, there is" Then you write your idea and I'll be the secretary and type it up real nice. Then we can send it in. I hand Sherlock my notebook. Not realizing or remembering that he is a nosey person. He flips through the notebook and steals out a couple pages. I'm distraught, "give those back", he says he will but needs them for now. In the notebook are pictures sketched, pages of my face with sunglasses, over and over and over again. And pages of puppy's and the word's "It's a puppy!!!" all over some pages. Then a friend Mary, writes "he'll be lucky to have you" as a compliment to let Sherlock know he has the right person for the job. Then Sherlock is not the fictional character but actually, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.