221B: Behind

Lethargy. He knew what that meant, failed to care. Not using the lights saved on electricity - kept the bills down. Mrs Hudson tended to deal with the money now. She knew to ask if she needed anything.

Nightmares. He mostly fell asleep in his chair now, and would carry on falling. The orange glow from the streetlamps followed him into slumber, and bathed him in the same  sickening glow that graced his wakeful, insomniac nights. They lit him as he tumbled, endlessly turning until he woke before he managed to land. He knew that if he fell when he was awake he could be sure of the conclusion.

Weight. He was losing it rapidly. The food in the fridge was cardboard and water chilled his stomach. Restaurants had handles on their doors whose bottom third told him nothing and take away… he didn’t have the energy to reason that one away. It didn’t appeal. If he moved less he would need less fuel, it was logical.

Hygiene. If only for Mrs Hudson’s sake John maintained a certain level of personal cleanliness. He cleaned his teeth, shaved, and had only showered - was it yesterday? John thought yesterday. he supposed his next one was due when he, when… soon.   

Part of him knew that he needed to leave Baker Street behind.