[ video/writing ]
[At first, there is a short video of a woman in the Welcome Center, listening to the ladies with a smile on her face, not doing or saying anything until she is handed the journal and the ladies finally stop talking.]
Thank you. [She directs a warm smile at them, opening the journal and, after some moments of simply looking at it, starting to write.]
How strange. For such a long time, writing is all I have done, this hardly seems like a weird thing to do, anymore.
If I understood right, what I write here is not for my eyes only. In that case… I don’t know how you did that, or who you are, but you have saved me from days that were grey and long. There is little art in a place as dreary and monotonous as the one I was confined to, but perhaps… miracles do happen. [This is accompanied by a soft laugh, lightly amused, a jab at the name she was told this place to have.]
However, I have the greatest interest in talking to one special person. My dear Sherlock… if this reaches you, I hope you know I am still waiting for your letter. There is no one who understands me like you do, no one whose company I would long for more than yours. Perhaps now it will be possible.
If you’re here… write to me.
Thank you. [She directs a warm smile at them, opening the journal and, after some moments of simply looking at it, starting to write.]
How strange. For such a long time, writing is all I have done, this hardly seems like a weird thing to do, anymore.
If I understood right, what I write here is not for my eyes only. In that case… I don’t know how you did that, or who you are, but you have saved me from days that were grey and long. There is little art in a place as dreary and monotonous as the one I was confined to, but perhaps… miracles do happen. [This is accompanied by a soft laugh, lightly amused, a jab at the name she was told this place to have.]
However, I have the greatest interest in talking to one special person. My dear Sherlock… if this reaches you, I hope you know I am still waiting for your letter. There is no one who understands me like you do, no one whose company I would long for more than yours. Perhaps now it will be possible.
If you’re here… write to me.