You waited forever for those tickets, bought with three months of Saturday work at the record store. That was where you met. In fact, you have the men on the stage to thank for your very first conversation – who’s better, John or Paul? Oh, no, it’s all about George. Everyone seems to forget Ringo.
The Wembley crowd’s gone wild, working themselves up into a frenetic dance, shrieking, whooping. You don’t notice because her hand’s on your knee, her breath on your cheek – you lean in and press your lips to hers and everything else disappears, fades to black.
For more information on “In For A Penny”, or for further entries, click here.