Dear Mr. PostMan

Guitar shoping

Anna's Point of View: 2018

"Anna? Bloody hell, what are we doing?" John asked, chuckling.

"Like I told ya, it's a surprise, John," I replied, dragging him across town in a black wig and a mustache. Since last night, John had been begging me to let him see the outside world, and after a lot of hesitation, I agreed. But only in disguise. The idea came to me while we were watching Doctor Who—well, I was forcing John to watch it, really.

Flashback:

"Here's your supper," I said, handing him some ramen with cheese.

"So, this is future food?" John grimaced, eyeing it like it might bite him.

"This is all Anna's got for food right now," I muttered, shoveling some food in and grabbing the remote. What to watch? Oh, I know—Doctor Who!

"Gear, I know you told me about colour telly before, but seeing it with me own eyes is just... gear," John said, trying the food and making a face. Guess he wasn't too keen on the ramen.

"Oh, you have no idea how cool it is," I laughed.

"So, what are we watching then?" John asked.

"The most amazing show on this planet—Doctor Who," I said proudly.

"Not this rubbish," John scoffed, pulling a face.

"Oi, don't be mocking Doctor Who! Back in the '60s, they didn't have the best effects, but now they're brilliant," I retorted, playfully shoving him.

"So, Anna," John said, after a few minutes, "what's the plan for tomorrow, love? What futuristic stuff are we doing?"

I snuggled up to him on the couch, glancing up. "Well, first I need more food, so probably nothing. I'm not even sure what we're doing."

"Well, maybe I can come with you. See what's changed out here," he said, absentmindedly playing with my hair.

"John, you know it's dangerous. What if someone recognises you?" I asked, imagining the worst-case scenario.

"Well, you can't bloody keep me cooped up in your flat, doll. I'll go stir crazy. Besides, I've been dying to see a proper guitar shop. Haven't touched me own since I left it behind in the past," John said, raising an eyebrow.

I knew he was right—I couldn't keep him trapped indoors forever. But how could I make it work? Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in my head.

"Wait here, I've got an idea!" I said, leaping off the couch and rushing to the closet. John followed, looking more than a bit bewildered.

"Doll, what on earth are you doing?" John called after me as I rummaged through the closet.

"Well, last Halloween, my friends and I dressed up as your band. Two girls didn't show, so Jass and I went as you and Paul. I didn't have a brown wig, so I had to grab a black wig with a mustache," I explained, finally finding what I was looking for. "Aha! Got it!" I shouted triumphantly—just as I hit my head on the closet doorframe.

"Bloody hell, woman, you're madder than me!" John laughed.

"Well, it'll work, trust me." I grinned, holding up the wig and mustache. "And you know what, John? Tomorrow, we will see the city."

End of Flashback.

So, with the plan in motion, I dragged John out of the flat, making sure he kept his head low. We walked downtown, him grumbling about the disguise.

"And why wouldn't you tell me, love?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because it'd ruin the surprise, that's why," I said, laughing.

"Right, surprise. I'm looking forward to this," he replied with a grin.

"And... we're here!" I said, stopping in front of a guitar shop.

"Why are we here, Anna?" John asked, looking around as we walked inside.

"Well, isn't it obvious? We're getting you a guitar," I said with a smirk.

John's eyes went wide, and he shook his head. "Anna, I can't let you do that, love. Did you see the prices? 700 pounds? That's madness."

"Well, it's kinda cheap by today's standards, and I've got enough saved up. Besides, I've always wanted one myself. So go on, pick one," I urged him.

You should've seen John's face—like a kid in a sweet shop. He was grinning, his excitement contagious. As John started eyeing guitars, I wandered over to the songbooks. They had a whole section, including a Beatles one, which I quickly hid behind the Disney ones so John couldn't see his own future. I stumbled upon a Taylor Swift book with some of her early country hits—A Place in This World, Fifteen, and Teardrops on My Guitar—my favourites.

"What's this, doll?" John asked, his voice behind me.

"Oh, just the amazing Taylor Swift!" I said, slipping the book back onto the shelf.

"She looks like a slag," John said bluntly, causing me to nearly fall over laughing.

"What? What's so funny?" he asked, clearly confused.

"Oh, she's a popular icon today," I said, wiping away my tears of laughter.

John just shook his head with a smirk. "A right laugh, you are."

We both walked towards a beautiful Gibson acoustic guitar. I asked the worker to take it down, paid for it, and we made our way to the next store.

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The end. Hopefully you guys like this chapter. Thanks for voting and commenting!😊🙌🏻 edited chapter.