It was a cold January evening in ‘69, you were curled up on the sofa engrossed in a book as you supervised your daughter while she was playing with some toys in the soft carpet.

It had been hours since you last saw your fiancée, Paul, as he went to the studio bright and early to record. It was weird, he never took this long.. time was getting on, the evening was slowly growing more cold and your daughter was getting more tired.

Time had gone by exceedingly slow.. and as you were about to put your daughter to bed, there was Paul in the doorway.

Something was off. Definitely off. When he’d come home normally from the studio, he’d look tired, but had a smile on his face as he was happy to see you both. But today? No, he wasn’t doing that. He stormed in, kicked his boots off and walked into the kitchen without greeting you both.

You lifted your daughter, ready to take her upstairs and you saw Paul in the glimpse of your eye. His dark eyes set on the bottle of alcohol below him as he poured some into a glass silently.