Dear Mr. PostMan

Texting? Proof?

2018 – Anna

I jogged up my porch steps, still catching my breath from my run. Nothing cleared my head like a long jog—until, of course, this.

Another letter.

I froze mid-step, my pulse spiking for a completely different reason now.

"No way. No. Freaking. Way."

I snatched it from the mailbox and rushed inside, my fingers fumbling as I tore it open. The moment I did, something fluttered to the floor.

An old, yellowed newspaper clipping.

I bent down, picking it up with shaky hands. My eyes zeroed in on the date:

March 30, 1963.

I sank into my chair, staring at it. The ink, the paper, the smell—it was real.

"Okay. Okay, this is actually happening."

I reread John's letter, my heart hammering. He wanted proof? Oh, he was getting proof.

Still in a daze, I grabbed my keys and practically sprinted out the door.

The cashier gave me a weird look as I placed my purchases on the counter—a cheap smartphone, some printed photos of me and Jack, and a small instruction manual.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

When I got home, I spread everything out on my desk, took a deep breath, and started writing.

Dear John,

Okay. I believe you now. But, John, you have to understand—getting a letter from the past isn't exactly an everyday thing. It's completely mind-boggling.

So, since you wanted proof, I'm sending you some.

I've included some pictures of me and my dog, Jack—because if we're going to keep this up, you should at least know what I look like, right?

And the big thing... the phone. It's called a smartphone, which means—if this works—you should be able to text me back. And even call me. I already programmed my number in there, and I included a small book explaining how to use it.

Just one rule: Do NOT show this to anyone besides your mates. We do not need the world getting its hands on a phone decades early. If I find out this thing makes it into the '60s tech scene, I will find a way to haunt you, Lennon.

Hope that's enough proof for you.

P.S. Happy I'm using your P.S. now? Also, those weird little symbols you hate? They're called parentheses. Get used to them. 😉

Anna

I sealed the envelope and dropped it in the mailbox, my fingers still tingling with adrenaline.

"That should do it. If this works, then—"

My phone beeped.

My stomach dropped.

I scrambled to grab it, my heart practically in my throat. A message flashed across the screen.

"You know how long this took me to figure out? Anna? Uh, do yea? This is John, by the way. You sure look beautiful in your pictures."

I burst out laughing.

"Oh my God. He texts like my dad."

"John, it took you that long? You type slower than my dad, and he's been using a phone for years."

A long pause. Then—

"Oi! I'll have you know this phonny thing is dead confusing. The buttons keep disappearing!"

I nearly dropped my phone from laughing so hard.

"It's a touchscreen, John. There are no buttons."

"Exactly! That's the problem! It's like magic!"

"Oh, you're in for a wild ride, Lennon."

Almost immediately, another message popped up.

"Wait—what are those things?"

"What things?"

"Those little pictures at the end of your message. The winky thing. What is that?"

I grinned.

"They're called emojis. There should be a smiley face icon on the keyboard. Try tapping it."

A moment passed. Then—

"FOUND THEM! 😎😁🙀 THESE ARE SO COOL, THE FUTURE IS COOL! 😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃"

I groaned, smacking my forehead.

"Oh no. I've created a monster."

"John, ENOUGH with the emojis."

"Why? They're fun! This phonny is fun! But me mates are calling me. Can I call you tonight? I'd really like to hear what you sound like."

My heart did another weird little flip.

"Yeah, I'd like that, John. Tell Paul, George, and Ringo I say hi."

I set my phone down, shaking my head with a laugh.

"Who would've thought a stupid dare would turn into me texting and possibly calling John Lennon?"

I glanced over at Jack, who stared back at me from the couch, unimpressed.

I pointed at him. "Don't look at me like that. Even you have to admit this is insane."

Jack just tilted his head.

I sighed, flopping back in my chair. "Yeah, yeah. I'll believe it when I hear his voice."

And deep down... I really hoped I would.

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End of chapter. Let me know what you think. Thanks for the votes and the reads.🙌🏻😊✌🏻 Edited Chapter.