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vocab_drabblesTitle: Phillistine
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Rating: Gen
Length: 200
Notes: Inspired by this quote from The Hound of the Baskervilles: He would talk of nothing but art, of which he had the crudest ideas, from our leaving the gallery until we found ourselves at the Northumberland Hotel.
“Holmes, do you remember—?”
“Yes, of course.”
I turned to fix him with a stare. “You don’t know what I am going to say.”
He smiled and sighed. “My dear Watson, of course, I do.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and clenched my jaw for good measure. “Very well. Prove it.”
“You are thinking about the time just before you left for Dartmoor and the Baskerville case, about those picture galleries we visited, galleries on this very street, the names have changed, of course, and you were thinking how my ideas about art which you thought so crude—yes, I remember you dared to call me a philistine—have turned out not as crude as you supposed.”
I smiled at my own defeat. “When will I ever learn?”
“I hope, never.” We’d stopped on the pavement in front of a Bond Street art gallery. Holmes nodded at several works of art on display in the large window. “It seems the world has caught up with me and my crude ideas. Phillistine, no more.”
“It only took twenty years.”
“Alas, I’m no longer ahead of my time.”
“You? Always. Sherlock Holmes will always be ahead of his time.”
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Rating: Gen
Length: 200
Notes: Inspired by this quote from The Hound of the Baskervilles: He would talk of nothing but art, of which he had the crudest ideas, from our leaving the gallery until we found ourselves at the Northumberland Hotel.
“Holmes, do you remember—?”
“Yes, of course.”
I turned to fix him with a stare. “You don’t know what I am going to say.”
He smiled and sighed. “My dear Watson, of course, I do.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and clenched my jaw for good measure. “Very well. Prove it.”
“You are thinking about the time just before you left for Dartmoor and the Baskerville case, about those picture galleries we visited, galleries on this very street, the names have changed, of course, and you were thinking how my ideas about art which you thought so crude—yes, I remember you dared to call me a philistine—have turned out not as crude as you supposed.”
I smiled at my own defeat. “When will I ever learn?”
“I hope, never.” We’d stopped on the pavement in front of a Bond Street art gallery. Holmes nodded at several works of art on display in the large window. “It seems the world has caught up with me and my crude ideas. Phillistine, no more.”
“It only took twenty years.”
“Alas, I’m no longer ahead of my time.”
“You? Always. Sherlock Holmes will always be ahead of his time.”
