Wattpad - by Quantifier

Vents of the Human Attic

For me to think such brutal thoughts - does it mean that I am cruel enough to carry out the deed? For me to act on how I feel - does it make me a human or a brute? This is the story of a person trying to articulate their thoughts and emotions and, try they might, to have what they think, say and do run on the same frequency. Read me at your own risk, for the only catch is that you will be left wondering for good if a human or a robot delivered this tale. Whether this diary is fiction or not would depend on what you decipher and what you choose to believe. Good luck.

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Vents of the Human Attic

Blind Man's Verity

John arrived back at 221B all hot and bothered one dull evening, only to come back to Sherlock being unreasonable about his experiments and all his other behavioral habits. "John, if it bothers you that much-" "SHERLOCK, JUST- WHY CAN'T YOU BE NORMAL FOR ONCE. JUST ONCE." John stopped in abrupt realisation at what he had just let out, and what killed him was the fact that he caught Sherlock's expression a split second before he rearranged it to that of a bored look. "Is 'normal' what you wish of me?" Sherlock says this carefully, sotto voce. John couldn't answer. Without another word, Sherlock withdraws to his bedroom with the door clicking behind him. 'I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you?' 'Would that bother you?' 'Would that bother you?' 'Would that bother you?' ' ... It bothers you, doesn't it?'

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Blind Man's Verity

Tagged, but I'm still not 'it'.

I've been tagged by a Sherlock fan and I'm scared. How did you find me.

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Tagged, but I'm still not 'it'.

An Observation

Sherlock glanced up from his newspaper. It wasn't the first time he has seen John appear vexed over something. In fact, that would be an everyday occurrence, considering how Sherlock always bring him to the brink of impatience. This is normal - or putting into consideration his current state - this was. Somewhere in the middle of a hot summer July, John realises a part of himself that he finds rather unsavoury, and decides that something had to be done of it. John, as much as he is an emotional man, bottles up incredibly much - especially when it is something he believes that he cannot share. He attempts to hide those little hints of unwelcome and definitely unconfirmed emotions - keeping in mind that when it comes to the ingenious consulting detective, every and any feelings displayed in the slightest would spell itself out to Sherlock visibly and immediately. John had managed to keep Sherlock from noticing, having learnt a thing or two about the human body language from Sherlock himself and taking advantage of Sherlock's ignorance. But of course, his walls do not last against the famous eccentric detective. Flaws are inevitable for one whom is inexperienced when against an all powerful mastermind. Sherlock finally notices that something is off. Though for the moment, Sherlock decided to observe John's situation. His interest is piqued upon finding out that his blogger has something to hide, and is impressed that he's hidden whatever he is hiding for quite some time. "I wonder, my little blogger - what have you to hide from me ... ?" [This short is inspired by Dr Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes, and the story setting belongs to Sherlock BBC.]

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An Observation

NEW WORLD [SORRY Y'ALL]

No one read this story anymore, and no one really supports the plot ... therefore, I prescribe this story as - over. Zit. Nil. Gone. Bon Voyage to it. I might write short stories, and until I'm motivated enough to even lift a finger to type another story, I'll be staying silent for most of them time. Apologies to whomever liked the story, for when I say I can't put my mind to writing it, I really can't ... put my mind to it. Let alone my heart and soul. I'm still here, if short stories are in demand - otherwise, sayonara to New World. YOU WILL BE MISSED BY AUTHOR, AS REMINISCENCE.

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NEW WORLD [SORRY Y'ALL]