Brandy was flustered and saddened. Not because of the sacking itself, but because she had grown attached to her place of work. She had created bonds with her computer, her cute little work cubicle, and her friend Gabrielle, who was there for her from the first day she had worked in the company.

Just as it began to land on her, gab, as she called her, suggested she’d talk to the Vice-president of the human resources department, just to see if there were any new projects in need of a secretary. She had called, left a thousand messages in his extension answering machine, but she never had the call returned. There were no more vacancies.

Brandy had to pay off her debt with American Express, as well as numerous weeks of overdue rent to her landlord. And food and kitty litter for Rameses, her cat. And food for herself… And the Satellite bill… and the debt with her mum… the dentist… and taxes…

And once again, without a job…

Brandy knew she had to make a backup of her personal information. She had had a lot of spare time at work to download a few things to keep herself busy. She called her friend in the systems department so he could make a backup CD of her personal files. At least those she’d take with her.

And the time was finally drawing near.

Her last day…

Like a naughty schoolgirl, she sneaked into the bathroom for an unceremonious cigarette, shedding quiet, mousy little tears. She was going to miss her place. It wasn’t just the place itself, but the entire concept of having to hurry up and looking for another jog…. AGAIN.

Saddened and after a relatively heart warming farewell committee from her friend Gab and her now former boss, Brandy took her backup CD, her box filled with her things and her jacket. She gently put them in the trunk of her car and turned back with a sigh. Cleaning off a tear, she stepped behind the driving wheel and left.

Just what she needed. A traffic jam.

She leaned her head on her hand as she desperately honked her car horn. She had always hated that habit, and often wondered if people who honk their horns for minutes on line believe that the rest of the cars will disappear if the do so. But now, she just saw it as a form of stress relief, a way to scream and shout without hurting her voice. Oh, God, her voice!! She also had to pay her singing teacher!!

- SHIT, FUCK, DAMMIT ALL TO HELL! - She finally screamed alone as she repeatedly slammed her hands against the steering wheel.

Like magic, traffic suddenly cleared.

She pressed her foot to the gas, and went ahead. She wanted to get home to Rameses. It sounded so sad. While others had a friend, or a family to get to, all she could look forward to was seeing her cat. Sad, sad, sad…

"The long and Winding Road" suddenly blared on the radio. She sighed and wiped off a tear from her eye as she sang along. –Don’t leave me waiting here… lead me to your door… The wild and windy night… pah pah …that the rain…. Washed away…-

She felt a bit calmer now… The Beatles always had that effect on her. She was an avid fan, collecting just about anything that as much as MENTIONED their names. She had read the books, she knew all about the people, and she had memorised since childhood each and every little song, both from their time as Beatles as well as their solo careers.

Then, it happened. She turned right, almost close to home. It had begun to rain, and she saw a standing figure right by the crossing. A man, roughly in his mid twenties, stood under the rain, getting drenched. He was so cute… tall, thing, dark… He looked saddened, lonely and miserably wet. It was almost as if the raindrops on his face were his tears.

The light was yellow….
God, he was almost identical to a really young…
- PAUL McCARTNEY???- She screeched as she turned her head…. She didn’t notice…. The lights were red.
And suddenly, headlights approached her side of the car. She tailspun, took a swish and landed her car on a lamppost. Luckily, she was unharmed… Or was she?
She tried to open her car door, but it was firmly jammed against the lamppost. She gazed at the hood of the car, and saw, in horror, that it was on fire. The car would blow very soon.
- GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!- She began to scream as loud as she could, banging her open hands on the car windows.
- It’s bad, yeh?
She turned to her left. He was suddenly in the car. He wasn’t wet, he wasn’t miserable… But he WAS Paul McCartney.
Brandy babbled incoherently, and he grinned.
- Paul… yes… that’s me name…Or it was, once...- He bit his lip. – Same lamppost, same day, same weather… Thirty years…- He huffed and stared at the fire.- I know what this is like…
Brandy continued to bang her hands on the window, shouting for help.
- You know, it’ll be easier if you relax…- Paul put his hand on her shoulder.- Believe me, I can tell you about tha'...
Brandy turned and saw in amazement how suddenly, everything around her seemed to move in slow motion. All except her and her visitor.
- Y… you were outside…- She pointed at him with a trembling hand. –You… you look just like…
- -I AM, luv. – He grinned. One slightly crooked fang on the right side of the smile. he had always been her favourite. She knew that little mousy grin since childhood. There was no mistake.
- C… can’t be…- she babbled.
- It is, you know…- He pressed his lips together. – This was the end of me line as well…
Brandy stared at him. –But you’re… You’re fifty four years old!!
- Ha!!!- He blasted aloud. –That’s bloody ‘ilarious, tha!!!
- But how did you…
- He blew his mind out in a car….- He sang,- Ring a bell?
- …he didn’t notice that the lights had changed…- She finished the line and stared at Paul with an astonished look. –Oh, God… Then… Then it was all true?
- Yup…- he nodded. –I’m dead. Been ‘ere since today, thirty years ago…
Brandy was horrified. –A… All the album clues… all the… the songs, the clues in the films and all of that stuff… It’s bloody true?
- In John’s words, The walrus was Paul…- He chuckled. –Ironically, I wasn’t even the walrus… It was Billy… But the point came across well, anyway…
- B… But they all denied it!!- She continued to babble incoherently. – J… John, George and Ringo… Even Paul!!!
- Billy!- He insisted.
- Billy, whatever!!
It was getting hotter in the car.
She turned an astounded stare. –W… what do you want? Why are you here?
Paul grinned. –You ‘appened to be ‘ere at the right time ata the right place, hey? You ‘ave to pass the message on… Yer going through the same crap, all the same feelings, same day, same bloody rain…
- What the hell are you on about? I’m gonna die here!!!
- Precisely…
- WHAT???
Paul turned around and faced her. –On November 9th, 1966, John and George and I had a huge, horrible fight. I was violently sacked from the band. I knew they wouldn’t really mean it, I knew they’d return soon enough to their senses… But I was so bloody saddened at the time, I thought driving out in the rain might chill me a little before going ‘ome… Then, there you were…
- There I was?- Brandy sneered.
- Yup, all dressed like a meter maid, drenched in the rain… I turned to look, and well…- he pointed to his surroundings. – This same thing ‘appened. I tried to get out of me car, but the door was smashed against the bloody lamppost. My feet were stuck. I began to shout fer help, but the car blew up with me…I felt it all. Even if it lasted only a few seconds, the pain and despair were ‘orrible…
- W… why are you telling me this?- Brandy stared in shock, suddenly feeling her feet were also jammed under the bent-up metal.
Paul got close to her. –You have to do this…- He spoke to her. – You ‘ave to tell the world that I’m dead… that's why you came back! Neither you nor I were meant to die 'ere. Get it? You must put an end to it!
- What about Sir Paul?
- Sir Billy??SOD IM!!- He shouted. –E’s not real!! I can’t go away, I can’t rest until the world knows!!- His eyes went from angry to sad. He once again looked like the miserably wet man she had seen only a few minutes earlier. –I can’t go ‘ome to me mum, or me dad, or Johnny… I’m stuck in this bloody pattern, luv, I can’t get out… I’m Paul… honest, I am… Please, you have to help me…- He held her hand and she shivered. His hand was stone icy, like a dead man’s hand. –That’s why yer going through with this!! So you know it was real, so you know what I felt… Please, Brandy! Help me!!
And suddenly, he was gone… and everything was running at normal speed again. However, she was still stuck, and the fire had spread to the windshield.
A sudden, desperate memory suddenly flashed through her head... The fire, the pain... And the sudden company of a man in his mid twenties, shouting for help as he desperately banged on the windows of a car that was soon to explode...
It was true.
She made desperate efforts to free her legs… -HELP ME!!!- She screamed. No one seemed to hear her. A thick curtain of fire surrounded her. The heat was unbearable, and so was the thought of death. Paul had been there! The real Paul McCartney! And she had been a part of it. Past lives? Maybe... No time to think it all over again. She had to get out, and fast.
The sound of a loud explosion and intense burning pain invaded her senses.
Brandy woke up, her forehead sweating and her bed wet. That hadn’t happened since she was a young child, but she had been truly horrified. But it had, after all, been a nightmare….A really UGLY nightmare. She remembered that the day before, she had downloaded an entire radio show about the "Paul is dead" rumour. Naturally, it had stuck to her, and she had dreamed about it all…. She still had her job, her car and her life.
She stood up, bathed and got ready for work.
She drove, humming "A Hard Day’s Night", the nightmare slowly leaving her memory.
Once on her cubicle, she began to do her work, until her boss called her in. Closing the door behind him in the office, he spoke to her… And his words froze her. –Brandy, I’m afraid I have bad news… The project is almost over, and much as we have enjoyed working with you, I’m afraid we’ll have to let you go….
In a deadly silence, Brandy stood up and stared into the haze… - Paul…- She mumbled.-Good God, it wasn't a dream...
- Huh? Pardon me? - Her boss sneered in confusion.
Brandy sighed with resignation and looked down. – I have to spread the word… The walrus was Paul.