A short story based on a true incident, let me take you back to the heady days of free love and Rock & Roll to the summer of 69

It was the summer of 69, she was just one of the many that had watched and listened with awe, along with 150,000 others, to the likes of Jefferson Airplane, T. Rex, The Move, Pretty Things, Joe Cocker, The Who and Bob Dylan.

The place was Wotton on the Isle of Wight the date August 30th 1969.

She was a sheer vision of exquisiteness, as she tilted her head to take in the beauty of the flower, thrown to her by Bob Dylan, whilst he sang She belongs to me, the sunlight danced in her hair, as if attracted to her by her charismatic aura, she sat there contemplating the purity of the flower and his music, and became locked into a world of her own, the beat of the music pounding along with the beat of her heart.

Dylan had said, when asked why he agreed to came to the Isle of Wight and not Woodstock, I wanted to see the birthplace of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, because I was just curious.