Click here to read A tale of two Doctors-Doctor Watson and Doctor Strange
A silken voice reached out through the darkness. “Doctor John Hamish Watson, tell me why you have come to study at Kathmandu?”
“Jesus,” John swore his heart pounding. He looked around him, seeing nothing. “Alright, I get it. Let’s make fun of the crippled Doctor. Well, I don’t need this. I only came here after reading some bloody esoteric article in the Metaphysical Digest, while waiting in my therapist’s office. But you know what? You and your bloody cult can just go to hell. Screw you.” Then as best he could he limped out of the courtyard, muttering to himself. I’m broke. I can’t go home to my sister Harriette. We don’t get on. Dad’s dead and Mum is well who knows where she got off to. Maybe I can make my way to the British consulate where I can get assistance in obtaining a plane ticket home. God, I’ve messed up this time. No job prospects, no loving family, no money, just a wounded broken spirt. I wish I were dead. He then stumbled out the doors into the dusty street.