I....think....I may have gone a bit overboard with it now....
Forging ahead, they were able to leave this artist’s den by climbing a bookcase stuffed with volumes both thick and thin, then dropping gently to the ground on the other side, landing in an old rowboat which sat on a rug full of holes, some clearly burned into it, others eaten. One end of the boat was home to a box filled with mugs, plates, bells, coins, paperweights, various glassware, and bookmarks all celebrating a Coronation, Royal Wedding, or other anniversary (all reigns John could name, and some he couldn’t, were represented); the other housed a mounted water buffalo head.
They found a wardrobe which contained nothing but hundreds of dusty, rusting trophies and a medicine cabinet which held seventeen jars of jam gone solid with age. A turn at a cast-iron mangler (which John swore had reached out and tripped him) seemed to mark the end of their progress, but then Sherlock found he could wriggle through a small window formed by a trunk (full of unboxed Meccano), a chalkboard locked into upright position, and a pair of huge decorative pillars which were too heavy to be shifted. Slithering after him, on his stomach over the trunk and under the board, John got stuck for just a moment, and Sherlock tugged him out by both hands.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2012-06-28 07:51 am (UTC)Forging ahead, they were able to leave this artist’s den by climbing a bookcase stuffed with volumes both thick and thin, then dropping gently to the ground on the other side, landing in an old rowboat which sat on a rug full of holes, some clearly burned into it, others eaten. One end of the boat was home to a box filled with mugs, plates, bells, coins, paperweights, various glassware, and bookmarks all celebrating a Coronation, Royal Wedding, or other anniversary (all reigns John could name, and some he couldn’t, were represented); the other housed a mounted water buffalo head.
They found a wardrobe which contained nothing but hundreds of dusty, rusting trophies and a medicine cabinet which held seventeen jars of jam gone solid with age. A turn at a cast-iron mangler (which John swore had reached out and tripped him) seemed to mark the end of their progress, but then Sherlock found he could wriggle through a small window formed by a trunk (full of unboxed Meccano), a chalkboard locked into upright position, and a pair of huge decorative pillars which were too heavy to be shifted. Slithering after him, on his stomach over the trunk and under the board, John got stuck for just a moment, and Sherlock tugged him out by both hands.