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sixteen hundred

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the earth spins at sixteen hundred kilos per hour.

john learned that in primary school, along with the order of the planets. (mercury venus earth mars jupiter saturn uranus pluto.) had sherlock learned that? he must have.

one thousand, six hundred kilometres per hour.

when sherlock holmes was alive, that had seemed terribly slow.

now it seemed terribly fast.

now john spent his days sitting motionless in various chairs around the flat, occasionally mixing things up and sitting on a bed instead. (usually sherlock’s. it smelled like him.)

without much energy to even walk up the nine steps to his bedroom or down the seventeen steps to the front door, zooming about at sixteen hundred kilos per hour seemed incredibly tiring. maybe that’s why he had so much trouble getting out of bed. (usually sherlock’s. it smelled like him.) it was because he was tired from how fast he was spinning about the axis of the earth. it was only logical, considering.

considering what? his best friend was dead? not just dead— death by suicide. in front of john’s very own eyes. he has heard sherlock holmes’ last words— “goodbye, john.”— and if it wasn’t so horrible, he would have been almost pleased that the very last thing to come of the detective’s mouth was john’s name.

but it was. horrible, that is. nightmarishly so. what could john have said to coax his best friend off the rooftop? why had he [redacted] for sherlock’s ruse? why hadn’t he seen the warning signs? he knew them well. even now. especially now.

the earth spins at sixteen hundred kilos per hour, and as john watson swayed on the ledge of the rooftop of saint bart’s, he could feel every single one.