Ulura

    They were walking in a park, not far from the flat that they would share again after more than three years. It was a quiet summer afternoon. Runners passed them as they left behind several chatting people as they continued their silent stroll. Bees buzzed next to their ears and John smiled as Sherlock turned around, trying to catch a glimpse of them before the bees got lost among the green bushes again.    Blinded by the setting sun, they kept ambling on the narrow path as they had for hours now. The balmy air caressed their faces and the various smells of a summer eve, the flowers, the fresh air, the water nearby, everything crept into