Dear Mr. PostMan

Who are You?

2018 – Anna

"No way. No actual way."

I stood frozen on my doorstep, staring at the letter in my hands like it was about to explode. My heart pounded in my ears as my eyes darted to the signature again.

John Lennon.

"This has to be a joke."

My fingers trembled slightly as I read the letter for the third—no, fourth—time. The handwriting looked old, the ink slightly faded. But that wasn't the weirdest part. No, the really weird part was how authentic it felt. It wasn't just some random scribble pretending to be him. It sounded like him. The attitude, the casual wit—if this was fake, someone had gone to extreme lengths to make it believable.

I let out a nervous laugh, shaking my head. "Okay. Okay, think, Anna. This isn't real. It can't be real."

And yet... here it was. A letter from someone claiming to be John Lennon. Dated 1963.

My first instinct was to toss it aside and forget about it. But the nagging curiosity in my chest wouldn't let me. Because what if—just what if—it was real?

I exhaled sharply and marched inside, letter clutched in my hand.

"Fine. I'll play along. But if this really is John Lennon, he's going to have to prove it."

I sat down at my desk, grabbed a sheet of paper, and started writing.

Dear... John Lennon?

Alright, so I got your letter, and I have to ask—are you really the John Lennon? Because I'm fairly certain that's impossible. It's 2018 over here. You, if you're actually you, should be in 1963. So either I'm hallucinating, someone's playing a very elaborate prank on me, or I've accidentally stumbled into some kind of time-bending madness.

I don't know how this is happening, but let's get one thing straight—I don't believe it. Not yet.

So prove it.

Tell me something about yourself that isn't common knowledge. Something I wouldn't be able to just Google in my time. If you can do that... well, I don't even know what I'll do. Probably freak out more than I already am.

Also, for the record, I have heard of Please Please Me. I've listened to it more times than I can count. You're still insanely popular in 2018. You might even be bigger now than you were in your time.

I'll be waiting for your answer. And if this turns out to be some kind of joke—just know, I will find you.

Your very skeptical future friend,
Anna

I sealed the letter, took a deep breath, and dropped it into the mailbox.

"Alright, magic. Let's see what you've got."

As I stepped back inside, I caught Jack—the only witness to my slow descent into madness—staring at me from his spot on the couch.

I pointed at him. "Don't look at me like that. I know this is insane."

Jack tilted his head, utterly unimpressed.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Yeah, yeah. I'll believe it when I see it."

But deep down, I wasn't so sure anymore.

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End of chapter!✌🏻😊 Edited Chapter.