Copyright 1999
All rights reserved. May not be used without permission.
Now the man lived all alone in a small bungalow on the mountain side. About once a week though he would come to town to buy beans, rice, and tofu and such necessities for life. He was a devout vegetarian and would not touch a bit of meat. He was always clothed in his usually attire of tight, faded blue jeans, a long-tailed bright colored shirt, and well-used leather thongs. None of the town people paid him too much attention, and the children would laugh at him behind his back and refer to him as �The Fool on the Hill.�
One particular day, the man had gone to town to buy his necessities. He was just walking out of JoJo�s Grocery Shop, when a beautiful young girl approached him. �Hello,� she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him.
Immediately he felt a special affection for the girl. She rather reminded him of his own dear wife, Michelle. She had long golden hair and violet eyes and her beauty was outstanding in spite of her simple dress.
Being a rather shy man of nature, he said nothing, but his sad eyes twinkled and the corners of his mouth turned up into what could almost be considered a smile. She held out a shining purple wine bottle and said, �Dear Sir, this is for you.�
He took it gently in his hand and turned it over. He found that there was no label marking the contents and quite bewildered he said, �Thank you, girl, but what is it?�
�Mysteria,� she replied. It�s a magical substance that was discovered in the Norwegian Wood many years ago. I inherited this bottle from my godfather, but I want you to have it. If you drink it, it will take you on the Magical Mystery Tour of your life.�
�Thank you,� the man mumbled rather shyly, but his blue eyes had lit up. Holding the bottle gently against his chest, he started up the long and winding road to his little bungalow.
Once inside, he sat down on a rough splintery chair at his little wooden table which was missing a leg. He slowly took the lid off the bottle and gazed at the lavender liquid within the bottle. Then he tipped it up and began to drink. He had never tasted anything like it in all his 64 years. It was sweet, but yet spicy; strong, but yet mild; bitter, but yet wonderful. He once more lifted the bottle to his lips and drank deeply, savoring the taste.
He became vaguely aware of a sort of floating feeling. It seemed he was floating up the long and winding road with his feet not even touching the ground. Everything seemed unnaturally bright and dreamy and suddenly the road seemed to lead him right up into the sky and he felt as if he were floating on invisible wings. He glanced over his shoulder and everything behind him seemed strangely dim and hazy. As he turned to look ahead, he found himself at a large pearly gate that opened by itself and he floated through it.
Suddenly he had the sensation of waking up from a dream. And then he looked around himself and discovered himself to be in some sort of magical new place like he had never experienced before. He was no longer in his dingy little bungalow, but in a beautifully elegant mansion with plush, red, velvet carpet. The wall paper was of fine gold and wine flowers mingled with bells and pomegranates. He found himself sitting on a fine sofa, with a royal-looking piece of paper on his lap. In fancy Victorian letters it said �The Magical Mystery Tour is Waiting to Take You Away.�
