You Like Me Too Much (and I like you)
The windows of the small flat were dark, the front door locked tightly. She was out, he concluded after a few moments of watching the house for movement. Where she had gone, he wasn't sure, but he knew that it was now or never if he wanted to win her back.
John clutched the bouquet of roses tightly in one of his hands while the other slipped into his trousers pocket and jingled his house keys around nervously. If anyone of her neighbors caught him snooping around the house again, they'd call the police. It had already happened once, and he had gotten extremely lucky when he had escaped them.
Quickly as he could, John reached under the third flower pot to the right, and grasped the key that he knew would be there. He glanced behind him, paranoid that people were watching, and caught glimpse of an elderly women peering through her window at him from across the street.
"Shit." he muttered as his hands fumbled with the keys until finally he unlocked the door and fled into the darkness. The
TragedyIt was nine o'clock at night, the sky was pitch black save for a few stars here and there. 16 year old George Harrison had just left his fourth show as a Quarrymen band member, accompanied by his steady girlfriend of five months, Julie Sullivan.
The two were quite happy, and in the sort of love that you find yourself plunged into quite suddenly, and without warning. They were kissing and holding hands as they walked slowly down the empty streets of Liverpool, unaware of their surroundings.
Donald Robertson, a newly divorced 54 year old man, had just left a pub around the corner from the one that George had previously played at. He was a bitter old man, filled with regret and hate towards his ex-wife, and for his children who took their mother's side.
This specific night was no different from any other night in Donald's life, as always he slid into his junker of a car, pissed drunk with no thought. The key went into the ignition, and the car roared to life, upsetting a nearby alley cat.