It was April of 1972. John hadn’t seen Paul in ages, mostly because he refused to. He wanted nothing of Paul, their fallout terrible. They always were close, maybe a bit too close, per se…

And here was John, about to knock on the door of Paul’s farmhouse. It seemed that small yearning for Paul could never grow away, feeding away at John like a parasite. John, admittedly, had not thought this through.

But, it was too late. The door began to open..