Bette had writers block…She wanted to write a song for Tina…It had been 6 weeks since she saw Tina last and she began to get worried. She had the solo piano intro, but that was it…. the words just werent coming to her…. There were so many feelings inside her; she just didn’t really know where to start.

Bette had her pencil in hand…. And the piano right next to her…Amazingly enough…Smack bang right in the middle of summer it was pouring down with rain outside. Bette looked up above her, she loved to watch the rainfall and her skylights did just that for her. They pelt down onto her skylights, then preceded to dribble down into the gutters, which then the water went down the drain. The only source of light, her candle abra, sitting on top of the piano. Thats all Bette wanted it to be. It gave the room a more ‘inspirational’ feel to it.
Sometimes the rain gave her inspiration to write or play something good and tonight she hoped that she could get both, however this wasn’t the case. Bette needed something more to get her going, a beat or a drumstick. She closed her eyes and just listened to the rain above her, amazingly enough it had beat, yet the beat was such a fast tempo, Bette couldn’t use it. Again she listened harder around her house, any familiar sounds that could be used for her song. Bette grabbed a blank she of paper and commenced her brain storming of what she felt and saw

Porsche’
Tina
Baby
Love
Come back
Want
Need
Hurt
Mickies
Dinner
Piano
Eyes
Lips
Smile
Hair
Body
*****

“Hey” her mind jolted her back to what she was meant to be doing.

Rain
Flowers
Sunsets
Heart
Soul
Cry
Angel

“Mm interesting” Bette thought for a while….”What can I sing about?”
She played around on the piano, thinking of opening lines, choruses. Finally she found a song appropriate for Tina

It’s been six weeks since you left my home.
You were so confused, you were all alone
And I was the one that made you so cold,
The thing is, I really want you to hold,
So I ask God….

“This isn’t going to work.” Bette expressed out loud… Again she closed her eyes and started to play anything that came to mind. Her fingers slowly stoked the keys down to make the perfect sounds for the late afternoon show. Her house was filled with warm, emotional music. Bette hummed a little, trying to find more words to add to her already crappy song. She opened her eyes and sighed heavily.

“All this work and no wine, makes porter an unhappy person.” She got up, swaying her hips as she went, pulling the fridge door open, inspecting the interior. Pulling a chilled glass out from the side compartment, then lazily grabbing the bottle of chardonnay. Swiftly opening the draw and pulling out a corkscrew. After undoing the cork, hearing the familiar ‘pop’ing sound, Bette poured herself a glass. The wine seemed to open up a whole new writing world. The texture and familiarity made the worlds problems seem so easy to forget. Bette went back into the dinning room and slumped herself back on the piano’s chair. Starting her song again, she found the words for the chorus.

Chorus
Tina youre my angel,
With a bod to die for.
Youre my angel and you hold my heart
Please don’t let it go.
Coz all I do is thinking about you.
Tina youre my angel, you hold my heart.

And I know it might it sound crazy,
But after that I still want you,
You want to come back in my life?
But there’s something I have to say,
I have to tell you that I will stick to you like glue.
And I’d love to love you.
My heart can’t take no more denies
And my eyes are all outta cries.
So God…

Chorus
Now you have me on my knees
Begging God please to send you back to me
I can’t eat, I can’t sleep,
You made me feel like I could not breathe
When all I wanted to do was feel your touch
And to give you all my love
But you don’t know if you want it
Want my loving now, but you can have it
Oh GOD.
Chorus

Baby, baby please,
Be my angel.

Being totally satisfied with the progress that she had made on her song, she took a victorious sip of her wine. Then looking back at the picture on the mantle, Bette quietly got up and rummaged around her house for her tape recorder and Mic. After finding it, she skipped back to the piano, setting up the tape recorder so that it would sit perfectly on the top of the piano. Then setting up the Mic on the stand, so that she could play the piano as well as sing. Pressing record, Bette started to play and sing, adding an amazing solo and an extravagant ending, the song was complete and ready for posting.
Bette jumped up and walked into her office, grabbing a big vanilla envelope, she proceeded back into the dinning room. She rewound the tape and then happily placed it in the enveloped, placing it on the table. Bette grabbed a pen and some paper and wrote:

Dear Christina Kennard,

This is for you, I hope that it shows you how much I like you…Love you.

Elizabeth Porter.

Slipping the note inside, Bette bring the envelope to her lips, letting her wet tongue slide across the top, sealing the top to the bottom Bette then sealed the envelope with a kiss. Quickly writing Tina’s address on the front, then adding the piece-of-resistance…The postage stamp.

She grabbed her keys and walked out her front door. Running down her road she found the post box, slipping the envelope in and patting the top of the box, Bette was satisfied…She stood there in the rain for a moment looking up at the dark clouded sky, putting her hands together as if she were in prayer, she whispered “Please God, bring her back to me.”