I told Paul I was going to sleep and that I could be woken up if he needed anything.

"Okay" He spoke very softly, more focused on breathing than his voice. He still had the tube of oxygen in his nose. 

I didn't realise how tired I was until I relaxed in the chair. The next thing I knew I was dreaming. 

<^>

I was sitting on the floor of a white room across from a young lady. She had blonde hair and soft facial features. I'd never met her before, but she seemed familiar. She looked up at me and smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back. 

I spoke up. "Do I know you? You seem awfully familiar."

She laughed lightly. She looked like she was glowing. "I'm Linda, Dear," Her voice was unbelievably soft.

"Oh! I should have guessed. I've heard lots about you, all good things." I waited a moment before asking my next question. "So... is this a dream, or is this somehow really you?"

"It's really me, Nancy," She assured me. "Sometimes I'm able to come into people's dreams, sometimes not, but this is really me."

"Okay," I had a million questions, but I decided to make it easy for her to do whatever she came to do.

"I don't mind questions," It was almost as if she could read my mind! "I can," she said. "I can read your mind"

"Oh," I didn't know what to say to that, so I asked her another question. "Do you know what's happening to Paul? Or how to help him?"

Her expression fell. "He's never dealt with loss well. His mother, the Beatles, John, George, me... It hurts him more than he'll ever admit. I had to ease him out of depression several times. He's in a very fragile state of mind right now, and you're doing an excellent job. He's as open with you as he was with me, which is saying a lot. Before he met you... he was shutting people out. I never thought I'd mean that much to someone, and I wish I didn't. He couldn't express himself, so he just gave up. You mean so much to him, and I can see why. You're a lovely lady, and trustworthy. I'm so happy you found each other."

I was relieved to hear that. Talking to her, I realised she and Paul were a lot alike. The way they smiled at nothing, the way they talked, the way their vision didn't stop at sight. 

"Oh, and John wanted me to tell you that you almost broke his arm earlier today" 

"Wh-what?" I was thoroughly confused. John? John Lennon?

"Yes," I forgot she could read my mind. 

"How?" 

She laughed again. "You didn't mean to. Did you know ghosts can't pass through things?" 

"Oh, tell him I'm sorry," I told her.

"He doesn't mind." She looked down at her hands. "Will you tell him I came into your dream? Paul I mean."

"Sure," I replied. "But how will I explain why you couldn't visit him?"

"Tell him I've tried, but for some reason... I... I can't." Her hand started shaking. 

"I'm sorry, Linda," I placed my hand on hers. She smiled at the gesture, but she was holding back tears.

"I miss him so much" her voice caught. "Tell him that. And tell him I love him."

"I will, I promise" 

"It's time for you to wake up." She said.

I hugged her goodbye and asked her, "Will you visit me again?"

"I'll try," came her response.

"And Linda,"

"Yes?"

"I can see why he misses you."

She wiped a tear from her face. "Thank you, Nancy,"

<^>