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The Moor
The night seeps in,
The fog settles down.
The damp ground squishes,
beneath my small shoes.
Not a sound is heard,
but the rumble of a carriage.
The thump of horse hooves,
and the low whine of a hound.
The carriage comes to a stop,
The driver hath no head.
When the door opens slowly,
A woman leaned forth.
"Come here, my dear sir,
for you'll catch your death."
I climb into the carriage,
and sit quietly.
'Why come there a carriage,
and a one-eyed hound?'
My thoughts are cleared,
as i remember a story.
There are no explanations,
This is The Moor.
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i wrote this because of the book The Moor by Laurie R. King. It is a Sherlock Holmes story and i am very interested in everything about Sherlock.