Fic: Bath: Gen
Aug. 13th, 2020 01:53 pmTitle: Bath
Length: 221b
Rating: Gen
Notes: for the August prompt: greatest passion. Maybe not greatest but a favourite thing to write about. POV Watson.
Summary: Watson talks about why he likes the Turkish bath.
It’s an oasis.
Entering, I leave the cares and troubles of the street, the surgery, and the rooms for sanctuary.
Sherlock Holmes, even when he’s sunk in moody silence turning over his latest problem, tends to dominate the room. Mrs. Hudson, too, is a force with which to be reckoned. Patients, oh, patients. They require acumen and compassion and, yes, plenty of their namesake. The club is very chatty. There’s always someone back from somewhere who wants to talk about what he’s seen or else talk about everything he missed while he was gone, even if, especially if, he’s been gone since the Crimea.
Sometimes, an escape is required, and I find it there, in tiles and cushions and shining brass and polished woodwork.
And then, of course, it smells nice. My senses are too crude to pick out the various notes, nevertheless, they find harmony. They soothe and invigorate.
The touch of a gifted masseur, well, there’s nothing like it. I surrender. It makes a new man of me.
The water is there, without having to bother maids or bang on pipes. Vague figures moving about in the steam has a romanticism that stumbling about in the fog lacks.
No one says a word to me, and there’s peace.
I suppose that’s, in essence, why I love a Turkish bath.
Length: 221b
Rating: Gen
Notes: for the August prompt: greatest passion. Maybe not greatest but a favourite thing to write about. POV Watson.
Summary: Watson talks about why he likes the Turkish bath.
It’s an oasis.
Entering, I leave the cares and troubles of the street, the surgery, and the rooms for sanctuary.
Sherlock Holmes, even when he’s sunk in moody silence turning over his latest problem, tends to dominate the room. Mrs. Hudson, too, is a force with which to be reckoned. Patients, oh, patients. They require acumen and compassion and, yes, plenty of their namesake. The club is very chatty. There’s always someone back from somewhere who wants to talk about what he’s seen or else talk about everything he missed while he was gone, even if, especially if, he’s been gone since the Crimea.
Sometimes, an escape is required, and I find it there, in tiles and cushions and shining brass and polished woodwork.
And then, of course, it smells nice. My senses are too crude to pick out the various notes, nevertheless, they find harmony. They soothe and invigorate.
The touch of a gifted masseur, well, there’s nothing like it. I surrender. It makes a new man of me.
The water is there, without having to bother maids or bang on pipes. Vague figures moving about in the steam has a romanticism that stumbling about in the fog lacks.
No one says a word to me, and there’s peace.
I suppose that’s, in essence, why I love a Turkish bath.
no subject
Date: 2020-08-13 08:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-08-13 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-08-13 10:08 pm (UTC)I was particularly taken with the line Vague figures moving about in the steam has a romanticism that stumbling about in the fog lacks. It's very evocative of the place and Watson's dreamy and relaxed state of mind.
no subject
Date: 2020-08-13 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-08-14 03:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-08-14 12:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-08-14 08:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-08-14 12:56 pm (UTC)