It had been four months since that last talk we had – that one minute, when Sherlock told me that he created the character of Moriarty. The night before that was the last night that I could sleep. The days before I was acquainted with Sherlock – all those days are back – the same old insomnia, the same old torture of lying on the bed trying to sleep, only to find the sun rising on the other side.
As a retired soldier, I came to London and consulted a psychiatrist about the same disorder that I was facing. She told me that the guns and the shooting had a bad effect. She told me it certainly was hard to adjust to civilian life. And then I met Sherlock Holmes – the man who made me realise that I missed the good old days as a soldier. True in every…
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