My neck hurts. I got cricks in it from sleeping on the floor. Oh my god I can't wait for an actual bed. I groan again pulling my self up and walking over to the yellow ribbon luggage. I throw it open.kitchen things clutter the suitcase. I pull out the coffee maker, a cup, and some beans. Almost like a zombie I walk over to the kitchen. Plugging in the silly machine and putting my cup underneath it. Sticking some beans and milk into the pot and my mug underneath it.
"Coffee..." I groan. I press the button. Sooner or later(meaning it felt like and hour but was probably five minutes) the coffee pours into my cup. It finishes up and I pull it out smelling it deeply then talent a gulp. It runs down my throat hot and acidly. Really yummy though.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
I jump slightly splashing coffee down the front of my shirt. A bit trickles down my pants, searing my leg. Ouch that stuff's hot.
I open the door up while rubbing at my jeans.
"Hello?" I say peaking out the door.
A man stands there.
"Hello. We're here to move your furniture." The mans says. I nod.
"Yeah. Umm, come on in." I open up the door. Then my closet walks it. they walk it over to my room placing it where I request.
It goes like this for a while.
Then comes the piano. It's held by about seven people. They are heaving and huffing. They come then place it in the middle of the room. Perfect.
The people smile afterwards. Or leaving with their out of breath face.
"WHAT WAS THAT MISERABLE RACKET!" I hear a man yell. Feet stomp all over the floor beneath me.i big pitter pattering/stomping of feet leads up the stairs to me. A loud knock on the door booms through my flat. I rush to the front door then open it up.
"Hello? You are?"
"Sherlock Holmes."
"Earie Wyndham. I'm your new neighbor."
"Where are you from?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Can't you tell?"
"Your accent. It's non placeable."
"I'm from Oxford. Now why are you here?"
"To ask you to stop making such a rucus. I'm in the middle of a case and I need absolute peace and quiet to concentrae."
"You need to get out."
"What?"
"It'll get you heart pumping and your blood moving. you'll think better."
"I know how to take care of myself."
"Well I work in Physiology and Physicoanalytics."
He narrows his eyes.
"Just be quiet." he say snapping around with his coat. The pitter patter of his feet. I smirk.
I think I'm going to like my neighbors.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl in 221A Baker St.
FanfictionEarie Wyndham is new to London. She has never been. Ever. At 22 she's crazy bored and crazy smart. And living off funds from being a child genius. Now she has moved to 211A Baker St. Right above the famous Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. But as...
