The postmen arrived back in the sorting office after their collection and they told The Boss their long and winding tale
The first postman produced the card and said 'This could be our ticket to ride out of here, sort of like The Holy Grail!'
The Boss read the card and said 'Have you been on the ale? Of one thing I am sure, it will have to be delivered to Paul McCartney to whom it is addressed!'
The first postman said 'Oh, give it a rest! He doesn't live there anymore, he lives in Scotland on a farm!'
'I'll take it up there on my next day off' said a third postman, grinning and turning on the charm
'Hang on' said the second postman, 'I thought he lived in New York City, that's when he isn't out on tour!'
Meanwhile, every postman in the area between Menlove Avenue and Penny Lane were searching every nook and cranny in every post box, hoping for some financial gain
Reports of leaves being stuffed into post boxes by the general public suddenly increased exponentially
It became a matter of concern to Royal Mail and it was reported on the BBC, who spoke again to Spencer Leigh
The post box where the card was found fast became a tourist attraction and people posed beside it and gained some snapshot satisfaction
Like the red wrought iron gates at Strawberry Fields it became a touchstone for dreams and the imagination
The leaves continued to fall into the King George era post box on Menlove Avenue and they floated down like Mother Nature's parachutes onto the letters, packages and postcards below where people wrote prayers and promises and poetry
While the sorting machines that had replaced the postal workers cared only for profit and nothing at all for humanity or words of love or philosophy!
The stories about what the original postcard actually said like Chinese Whispers became shouted and twisted
Some said they foretold of a future tragedy but it was just one friend writing to another, the way you or I might write to each other, from you to me or from Menlove to you...

(c) Brian O'Connell September 2014