“BOXING DAY, BROTHER MINE”

Sherlock threw the least offensive of the carriage rugs over my shoulders, pinned it with a tarnished rose broach, and crowned me with what looked like one of Doctor Watson’s old, discarded caps. Then he put his arm through mine, and we entered the Alpha Inn as extremely disreputable brothers together. Another author milestone came… Continue reading “BOXING DAY, BROTHER MINE”