Dear Mr. PostMan

Oh John where did you go?

1963

I couldn't believe me own eyes. One minute John's there on his porch, and the next, he's just gone. Vanished right in front of me! Blimey, Brian's not gonna like this—no chance. We've got a tour in ten days! What on earth do I do now? Paul thought, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Right, gotta tell the lads. Oh, this is a right mess.

With urgency in his step, Paul marched over to George's place.

"Oi, George, you in? Got some bad news," Paul called as he knocked on the door.

"What's the bad news, Paul? And a proper hello to you, too," George answered, with Ringo peeking over his shoulder.

"John's gone! Vanished right before me eyes. What are we gonna do?" Paul said, his voice starting to crack with panic.

"Gone? What d'you mean, gone?" Ringo asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.

"I think he's in the future, Ringo! Blimey, what's Brian gonna think?" Paul said, rubbing his temples, trying to make sense of it all.

"Right, get in here, Paul. Let's sit down and figure this out," George said, stepping aside and letting Paul in. They all sat down in the living room, and George, with a calm but serious tone, started to speak.

"Right, here's the plan. We don't tell Brian a thing—just say John's off on holiday and he'll be back before the tour. Then we sit tight, wait for him to show up," George said, looking between the lads.

"And what if he doesn't come back?" Ringo asked, clearly concerned.

"Well, if he don't, then we're well and truly stuffed," Paul said grimly. The room went silent as they all took in the thought. Without John, they were in deep trouble.

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The end. I know this is a small chapter, but the next one will be longer this is just setting things up. 🙌🏻😊😊😊😊 edited chapter.