Blow Away

**As The Beatles Sing Their Swan song….how they changed and how they changed us.**

John tossed down the tenth newspaper he'd read that morning off the bed. It was stupid the amount of attention they were getting, the fans should have seen this coming. On the opposite side of the room, George stood with his back to John, as if looking out a window. But there was no window, only a large painting of a box of dried rose petals. Their drafty hotel room was freezing, and it was getting worse by the minute.

"Are you okay, George?"

Slowly, George turned around. He was very close to tears. Rubbing his eyes slowly with his hands, he whispered.

"What do we do now?"

John looked at him, puzzled.

"Come sit down."

He indicated the spot next to him on the bed. George stepped over and slowly sat down. John wrapped his arms around his friend.

"George… I think we need to give this a rest."

It was all that they could do, John thought. With the band breaking up, they couldn't still be together. George jerked up, nearly knocking John off.

"What the 'ell do you mean?"

He was terrified. John had hurt his feelings before, but this was a whole new level.

"I thought there was something special between us!"


George Continued. He jumped off the bed and stood in front of John. Grasping him by the shoulders, he was shocked further when John said

'Don't you think so?"

and every petal of their flower of love wilted and blew away. George dropped his arms and dragged himself sullenly out of the room, meandering aimlessly about the hotel.
George considered the painting of the dried flowers in a box. They suited this story of his, love was wilting for him and it always would.
Finally, he snuck back up the stairs and trotted into his and John's room. No one was there. On the bed there was a box, about the size of a cd case.
George picked up the box and opened it, carefully working in order to keep the beautiful box safe.

Inside, there were some flower petals.
Fresh ones.

And a note.

"Just a short rest."