(Sherlock Holmes Fanfiction) London in November

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a soft, snow-white swaddling cloth. The salty sea breeze from the North Sea blew into the manor at dusk, while dark gray seabirds circled over the water again and again. Father said they had witnessed the Heifetz family for seven generations, the eternally English Earl of Lowestoft! Years later, when I fled that manor in a panic, pretending became a necessity of life. Then he, Sherlock Holmes, suddenly appeared in my life, alive and tangible, standing right before me, flesh and blood, firmly rooted in the world. He rode in the carriages or trains familiar to everyone, appeared amid the November fog of London, stayed at well-known hotels, and read The Daily Telegraph and other popular newspapers... Old and new buildings stood side by side on Baker Street. Victorian gas lamps flickered in the fog, and the clatter of horses' hooves echoed across the cobbled streets late at night. Waking from a midnight dream, I saw him standing at my bedside, eyes bright and a delighted smile on his face as he leaned toward me.