𝑻𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑶𝑵𝑬𝒀, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔

/ 𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑬

it seems that we've come to the end of this road (i'm so huuurt i don't even wanna publish this i'm so dramatic 😭)
anyway! i am so incredibly happy about how this book turned out. if you had told me months ago that i'd actually publish a story of any kind i would've flipped!! or something haha

now i don't know if i'm done done... i might just continue in a different book or complete a story in its entirety because i have some ideas, but who knows?

UPDATE: there will most likely be a couple of stories out soon-ish!! (i'm still working out logistics)

i just want to say thank you for all the lovely, lovely support and for what you have allowed me to accomplish in this sHort 3 months (2 and a half?) and also use this as an opportunity to share a true story of my own (kinda)!

this is the story of:

the time my dad met john lennon
༊
'75

okay so i will preface this by saying that yes, i do mean my dad and no, i'm not in my 30s or anything. in fact i just turned 18 back in feb! it's just that my dad is older than most... obviously. moving on!
my dad told me this story while we were on one of our early quarantine walks, which later died with the heat and the business that came with our new schedules. as we walked along the familiar stretch, we happened upon the spot where he encountered the infamous working class hero in the flesh...

it's around may 18th, 1975 (when the picture above was taken) and john had to do some sort of "work", as my dad recalled it, in my city to help in gaining his citizenship— im assuming we all know about all that, so i won't get into detail.
literally can't story-tell for shite anyWay!

we have a very beautiful walkway near my house called the azalea gardens. it's surrounded by greenery, azaleas (duh), and a nice little waterfall accompanied by a gentle stream and such things. my dad, about 23-24, is sitting on a bench (the same one we were sitting on i believe) and he spots a thin man walking down the pathway. he's got the round glasses, skinny nose, is sort of hunched over as he walks with his hands in his pockets. naturally, my dad thinks to himself: that's john lennon!

no! says i.

what?? says my brother, sister, and her wife (pretty sure none of them knew who he was). meanwhile i'm over here with my beloved abbey road shirt on but that's neither here nor there.

well, did you talk to him? my brother asks. now, my brother's very keen on asking every question he can in order to get a good story— a budding journalist, i reckon! and boy was i thankful for that question because the answer my dad gave was!!!

of course i did!

so i pipe up again, very excited, and ask: what'd you say to him?

so my dad, who was not a fan of the beatles nor john lennon really until this moment, gets up from the bench and approaches the strange man walking idly among the green trees in the middle of spring as if he's nobody (because he really wasn't getting mobbed anymore, his fans were a bit more familial, way more chill. and nobody could really recognize him but i mean whatever, right?) i severely envy the opportunities my dad had to see celebrities just walking around... anyway!

hello, john. my dad says.

john nods his greeting. oh my gosh i'm getting chills.

and then my dad, because of course he did being the jew-fro'd, buzzing political activist he was, says: you aren't really anti-semitic are you?

and john honestly replies: no... no... 'twas just a phase...

and he walks away.

‧✧̣̇‧

phew! it was way too hard to keep that in. it just makes me crazy to think about- i'm jealous! and sad! and i don't want it to endddd!
i love you guys 🥺
i'll be over in my spam book if you need anything... and i'll be here still!

but! with all that said... this bird

has flown 🕊