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It was early in the morning when John Lennon hazily wandered into the levoratory, attached to the bedchamber he shared with his wife.
Exhausted, the newly awoken man was not looking forward to the coming hours, that made up his schedule. It was going to be a grueling day, with gruesome responsibilities, that no body with a soul could enjoy.
John did all he could to mentally force himself to go through with the coming eight hours.
The tones of gray were creeping in with the morning light, that did not seem to shine bright.
While the Beatle prepared himself in the bathing room, he could hear his wife Cynthia was already down stairs with their son. Missus Lennon made it a habit to arise before her husband, and managed to keep her days busy, even when her man wasn’t home.
Right now, the wife and mother were probably busy making breakfast, the man lightly thought as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.
Soon a layer of white shaving cream covered the Beatles face, and he applied the razor to remove the stubble from the night.
Once cleanly shaven, John applied his aftershave, and began to think about his day.
The musician had a full itinerary ahead of him. Nothing really fun, just a line of scheduled meetings, all long and boring.
His entire day was void of anything exciting or even remotely pleasant. In fact, there really was no reason for him to want to leave the house at all!
A glance out the window, revealed a gray atmosphere, with clouds preparing for rain.
John could hear a sigh escaped his lips, and the weight of the day weighing upon his shoulders.
Everything was going to be gray today! The man thought as he prepared his toothbrush, with a line of toothpaste.
The sky was gray, the people he was going to see today were all gray….
Shit! The man thought, as he spat in the sink. Even the bloody suit he was to wear when he left the house was gray.
The Beatles manager Brian Epstein picked the clothing out himself for John to wear, and the singer knew, he better not fuck up today.
A lot was riding on the upcoming hours. So many important people, with important documents to sign. All this dull and gloomy predictions danced in John’s head, as he stared into the looking glass.
Oh how he wish he could just climb through the mirror, and live in the dimension where everything is backwards.
Dizzy from the days expectations, John seated himself on the toilet just to have a place to sit.
He needed something to brighten his day, and make light of the seriousness of the responsibilities at hand.
Then something caught the Beatles attention just out of the corner of his eye.
There, less than a foot away was a flash of red. A strong, bright, and seductive color, shining in his eye.
John realized he needed this red, and was determined to take part of the color with him!
Although, the man knew he needed to hide this from the rest of them. The gray people with no sense of humor or adventure in the world, wouldn’t understand.
John knew, he had to keep this gift hidden, even from his wife.
Which was going to be difficult, but Lennon found himself up for the challenge. Quickly, he took a bit of red, and placed it in an area currently expose, but soon to be veiled for the day.
Even though John wouldn't be able to see his precious red, he knew it would be there, waiting for him, underneath the dingy grayness of the atmosphere.
“John,” his wife Cynthia called from the door of their bedroom. “the car will be here in a half hour.” The dutiful bride reminded her husband. “Your breakfast is waiting for you.” She further added.
“I’ll be right there Cyn.” He said, hoping she would leave soon. John didn’t want anyone, especially not his wife, to see the red.
Delightfully, John could hear the shared bedroom door close, and only then did he feel compelled to leave the shelter of the bathroom, to his boudoir.
All while careful not to disturb the red.
Still not eager to begin his day, John slowly dressed himself, taking his time with each button on his shirt, and pacing back and forth to retrieve each article of clothing he required.
He was dawdling like a child, hoping to miss the bus for school.
He would like to miss this ride today, the man thought as he folded his tie.
Then a honking sound came from outside. It was his ride!
Glancing at the time, John realized he nearly took up his last thirty minutes home, getting dressed. He would have to skip breakfast, but he didn’t care.
Without much thought, John approached the window finding a gray car in his driveway. Opening his window the Beatle called out.
“I’ll be out in a minute Larry!” he informed the driver, who was also wearing a gray suit, upon this very gray day.
Closing the window, John glanced upon his speck of red. The one bright thing about this day. The musician didn’t want to cover it up, but he had too, so he did, and promptly exited his bedroom.
Approaching the door, after climbing down the stairs John’s wife Cynthia approached her man, with a cup of coffee upon a saucer in her hand. Not paying her any mind, John dressed himself in his gray coat, to match his gray suit.
Then turning suddenly, he noticed the saucer within his reach. Instantly he took the cup, swallowed it’s contents, then returned the dish to it’s mate, when he noticed the red roses painted on the outer layer of the fine china.
“Thank you Cyn.” He said to his wife, as he turn back towards the door, and promptly left. Not once looking upon the devoted woman, and the red apron she was wearing.
In the car, John fixated his gaze upon the gray asphalt, as his ride was taking him to an even grayer place. Then the car stopped suddenly.
Looking up, John was delighted to see a red light. It made him think of the red he was hiding, and that lightened his spirits!
However, the delay didn’t last forever, and John fixated his gaze down, before the lights vibrant color changed.
In the office, a very gray man made a gray conversation so boring, Lennon felt he would go mad. He rested his head in his hand, trying desperately not to fall asleep. It was just nonsense!
Then papers were put in front of the singer, and his counsel nodded, so John signed his name four times then two more, then another…
The man wrote his name so many times, he could have written a book.
All was dull within the room, a gray room, with textured wallpaper, casting tiny gray shadow’s of their own.
Suddenly, the door from the outside world, or at least out of this office, open and Janet, a black haired receptionist, came in wearing a conservative black and white dress, but also a red carnation pinned upon her breast. Quietly, the middle age woman approached one of the gray men, but Lennon couldn’t take his eyes off her lapel.
“We can leave.” John’s counsel advised, and quietly the Beatle agreed, giving himself a final look upon the red flower, before exiting the room.
Climbing down gray stairs, with white walls, the musician headed directly toward the door outside. Upon reaching the fresh air, John found the atmosphere heavy, as rain clouds grew above.
“Let’s get some lunch.” Lennon’s solicitor suggested. The famous man simply agreed by nodding, and then following the attorney up a couple of blocks, until they came upon a red sign for a tavern. It said something in gold lettering, but John paid it no mind.
The pair entered the establishment, and sat at a booth, when the attorney saw his colleagues and invited them to join him and the famous client.
Now John was sitting next to a very gray man, and across from two such men. Business as usual Lennon thought as he ordered a beer, and waited patiently for his drink.
“Stan here is working on getting your friend Mick Jagger off on those drug charges.” John’s solicitor suddenly spoke up about the man beside the Beatle.
“I’m sure Mick appreciates it.” The singer simply stated, in which the men in his company laughed.
“I sure appreciate him paying me.” Stan replied lighting a cigar.
Then the beers arrived, and John was passed a beer from a hand with red painted finger nails. The bright color caught Lennon’s attention, as he longed the see the speck of red he possessed, hidden within his person.
After the meal, the musician was dragged to a notary, and was forced to sign and endless amount of paperwork which was stamped with gray ink with each signature.
Finally, with this over, there was just a matter of going to the bank, for a large withdrawal.
Despite his fame and notoriety, John found himself online before a gray counter, with a gray haired woman manning the line alone.
The old spinster took her time as she processed each request, causing time to stand still in the tedious line. At last John approached the shelf, and the woman looked him over, with no expression upon her face.
She accepted the papered slip, and required a manager to open the safe, to fulfill the requested amount. John just stared at the wrinkled hands, as they counted the amount, who gave the money to the Beatle who turned it over to his lawyer.
The gray man smiled with glee, then left the Beatle alone.
Now there was a different car outside waiting for John, to take him home. In which the man was relieved. Sitting in the back of the vehicle, the rain began to pour, as gray drops fell from the sky.
Then suddenly a cardinal flew along side the car, freely swaying in the wind, and between raindrops dropping from above.
The little creatures bright red feathers, brought a sense of joy to the man going for a ride, While he thought of the speck of red he had with him, in which he hoped to see again soon.
Inevitably, the bird flew off, and John returned to his house, with the gray clouds unleashing it’s forced upon the home and everything else.
Running inside John found his large home empty, with all the lights off, casting gray shadows in each room.
Despite the emptiness, John was glad to be alone.
Instantly the solo man ran upstairs to his bedroom. The first thing he did in the privacy of his quarters was remove his gray suit, and adorned more comfortable clothes. Reclining in his chair, the musician raised his naked feet up.
Only then, after the extreme long and gray day, could John admire the speck of red painted upon his toes, which gave him the strength to make it through these last eight hours.