Tell Me What You See

I Need You

Rita busied herself around the flat, trying to clean it up. She had gotten Vickie to leave for the afternoon. She had to tell her a story and hated lying to her mate. She just didn't want her to think that she was crazy.

She sat down with a cup of tea and a cigarette, going over the previous night in her head. Paul, he enchanted her and yet not as a Beatle. She felt close to him. They had gone back to her flat to talk. They didn't have sex, and any other time she would have, especially with Paul McCartney.

They couldn't figure out how they knew each other, but when she was near him, her spine tingled. She felt the need to be near him and he had told her he felt the same thing. Yet, they didn't even kiss. They talked for hours. Funny, she thought when they held hands she knew much more about him and he knew more about her. They ended up laughing nervously about it. He finally said he had to go, but it took him an hour to leave. He wanted to see her again and she wanted to see him too. They arranged that they would see each other later that night, and again they would be alone. Maybe they could figure this whole thing out.

That night she dreamt of him. The dream was so beautiful. She was in a white flowing dress, with bare feet and he in a white tux, also in bare feet. They danced to soft music. The stars were bright, so they must have been outside, she thought. Yet there was white fog all around them. Nobody was there but them, it was like a Cinderella dream. As she was pondering over her dream the bell rang. Her heart raced as she jumped startled out of her dream world. It must be George, she thought.

She got up and looked out the window. She saw the dark haired Beatle, looking around nervously. She rang him in and in a minute her doorbell rang. Rita fixed her hair and went to answer the door.

She opened it to see George waiting anxiously. She motioned him in and closed the door behind her. She straightened her blouse, tucking it into her jeans.

"Hello Rita." He said quietly.

"George, hi. Have a seat. I put the kettle on for some tea." She told him as she led him into the kitchen.

He followed like an obedient puppy, not saying a word. He sat down at the table.

" Rita, do you mind if I smoke?" He asked.

"Of course not, I do. Here's an ashtray." She put it on the table for him.

George didn't know where to begin. He tried to call Ravi, but he hadn't been at home. He pulled out his notebook, wondering if he should start there.

Rita was as nervous as George. She could see it in the way he fidgeted while he sat. What could she tell him? He'd think she was crazy.

George broke the ice, "Um listen Rita this is gonna sound a bit off, I know," He sighed before he started to talk again.

Rita gave him his tea and sat down. George looked surprised that she knew how he took it.

"This is what I wanted to talk to you about. " He told her.

"Tea?" She laughed.

"No, how did you know how I took it?" George faced her, waiting for an answer.

"Dunno, really. I just made it." Rita wondered too how she had known.

She looked at it and then put her hand on it, thinking about his odd question, that didn't really seem so odd to her.

George looked down into his cup as she touched it. The liquid turned to a crimson red and he jumped up with a gasp, pushing the chair back and onto the floor.

"What George? What's wrong?" Rita rushed over to him.

His head started to swirl and again he couldn't hear her speak. He shook his head. His nervousness died down as he looked back at the cup and only saw the milky brown tea.