Ash Investigation

There are 247 types of cigarette ash and he knew them all. So when I pointed to the considerable pile with joyful exclamations, knowing he would instantly unravel the mystery before us using this one vital clue, I was then understandably quite disappointed when he waved me off, muttering, as was his habit, about worthless specks of dust and broken hearts of no consequence to the matter at hand. I chose, for my own part, to investigate the charred remains on my own, regardless. The size, roughly the size of a woman’s fist, seemed rather large for a cigarette. Perhaps our mystery person stood here contemplating the deed for quite some minutes before moving on. The color was an interesting shade of deep red, which I also found intriguing. Perhaps it wasn’t from cigarettes afterall. “Sherlock….?” I interrupted his pacing and quiet rambling. “Yes, Watson, what is it, speak up my good friend.” “Well it’s about the ash just here, you see…” “oh? And by what you’ve observed, what would you deduce?” “I haven’t the foggiest. I’m quite stumped really.” “Oh-ho-ho! Watson, my good fellow, have you nothing to say about it at all??….. no? Fine. I shall lay it all out before you. It is, quite plainly, the ashy remains of a woman’s heart.” Sputtering I cried out, “a… a heart?! Are you quite certain? How…?” “Watson! Watson! Use your powers of observation and deductive reasoning! What am I always reminding you?? That whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth! This woman, whoever she may be, lost her heart and it was carefully removed from her body and lay here burning, with no one to care enough to pick it up and feed her fire. Quite simply, she left it there for Him. And He, whoever He may be, hadn’t the desire to carry it away with him. Love! Bah!!”


©️tara caribou – 2018

Sorry. Just a dumb ramble I pecked out at 4am because I was too busy crying to be able to just fucking sleep. My apologies to Sir A.C. Doyle.

28 thoughts on “Ash Investigation

  1. Pretty good for a dumb 4 A.M. teary just can’t sleep ramble. Did you know that Watson ejaculated twice as often as Holmes? There are twenty three ejaculations in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories, eleven times it was Watson. 🙂 ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You know what, Spirals? I actually appreciate that you can notice I was in a hurry as I clickety-clicked away at 4am as I lay here crying. I just wanted something else coming out of me other than just tears. But thank you. Thank you for holding me to a higher standard. I should do the same with myself more often.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Because I know the feeling, I’ve been there, and know how it feels to just scribble or type away with only some kind of release in mind. I wasn’t in any way trying to go, “You should write a masterpiece in that situation,” more like, “Maybe you can explore it a bit more after the crisis;” sort of like interring a thought.

        I don’t think I’m expressing it very well. Sorry.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. You expressing yourself quite well, thank you. I know exactly what you’re saying. This wasn’t anything I was really taking seriously though. Kind of a stream of words on the page because earlier I was talking to fellow blogger Mike and he said something about Sherlock Homeless and I thought it was clever and then later as I was struggling, I remembered that and so I just started writing. To see something else pour out of me. I didn’t really take it serious. So, this was, I suppose, my attempt at lighthearted for my blog. I’ve done this exactly once before…. hhmm maybe I’ll repost that one too just for fun-zees. But again, I am honored that you could see deeper than the surface here. I quite blows me away, honestly.

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