and I love her [beatles]

pm • THREE SUMMER DAYS

All the fear and the fire
Of the end of the world
Happens each time a boy
falls in love with a girl

— Hozier, Wasteland Baby!

Three such days with you
I could fill with more delight
than fifty common years
could ever contain.

— John Keats

It's quite unfortunate that Yasmine won't live to see her twenty-fourth birthday. It would have been a fun party; her parents would come, some of her friends would be there too. Perhaps even the boys, who she hasn't spoken to in so long. Surely they would want to see her for her birthday.

But she'll be gone by then. They will be too.

There's been nothing but despair and chaos on the telly. The end of the world is fast approaching and there will be no grand plans, no last minute idea to save them. It's inevitable, they've said. Their time is up. As the news spread, people began reacting in different ways; many have run to church, others are finally indulging in their sin. Might as well go out with a bang, eh?

Yasmine has succumbed to neither of these philosophies. Perhaps it's her way of living her final days in denial, pretending as if everything is normal. Her daily schedule doesn't change much. She still gets up in the morning to make breakfast and care for her cat, Biscuit. She'll have a cuppa while reading her favorite book or sometimes a new release. She listens to music. Today, it's the Beatles on the turntable. The voices that she know so well sing to her and for a moment, it feels like it used to. Like nothing has changed.

Paul doesn't know how his music brings her comfort. He wouldn't, considering how they parted ways. It makes her wonder, does he think of her too?

It's a question that's popped up in her head ever more frequently since the announcement of Doomsday.

     . . .

The Beatles were working on their upcoming album when they received the news. They hardly believed it at first, how could they? The idea that the world could just end on such short notice is ludicrous. The idea that they can die is ludicrous. Not the Beatles, who have ruled the world since their breakout in '62. Not them, who are so young and full of life.

John has a son, which is probably the reason why he seems to take it the hardest. He leaves the studio in tears, and immediately returns home to his family. Ringo and George have wives they have to comfort. Only Paul is left. He sits with his bass guitar and mindlessly plucks the strings.

There's an old tune that he's never quite developed, one that stuck in his head years before. It's simple, not many notes, but it's warm and beautiful and lovely. It's one that he's tried so hard to forget.

The melody had the potential to become something great. He thinks that potential is still there. So, as he recalls all those old memories of her that held so much inspiration, he begins to write his last song.

     . . .

During her last week, Yasmine finally decides to stop going to work. It's not like she'll need money for next month's bills. They say she's contributing to the breakdown of society; as people stop working and companies break down, people are denied the normalcy of their everyday life. But she'll be damned if she spends her final days at work.