Jacob looked out from his bedroom window to the street. His modest low-set three-bedroom brick home was easily missed in a leafy street littered with elegant houses. He sadly peeked through the slightly drawn cream-coloured curtains. He was horrified as a tow truck turned into his driveway. For what rode in strapped to the back of it was Lightblue. He squinted as the blinding morning sun illuminated his once-handsome face. He closed his eyes and softly shook his head.

  Jacob turned about and contemplated the state of his room. Surrounding him were heavy boxes stacked five feet high with various items including clothing, books, collectibles and an assortment of other items once happily displayed around the house. It was all now an overflowing reminder of the terrible world in which he was drowning, as his steps shuffled around the maze of empty boxes. To leave the bedroom and walk the old thin-carpeted hallway to the front door, he had to remember to turn right then left then left then right.

  He pushed open the front door and made his way stiffly down the three steps onto the grass. The truck driver was surprisingly clean-cut and efficient, as he quickly assessed where to drop the car wreck.

  ‘Over there!’ croaked Jacob, pointing unconvincingly. His heart was just not in it.

  The driver pulled out the paperwork from his back pocket and coughed a lot.

  ‘Okay…’ he mulled it over. ‘Mr. Jacob Kelly. 134 SunnyCrest Avenue.’ He read aloud.

  ‘Yep, that’s me… JK,’ mumbled Jacob.

  The driver looked over at the gold numbers on the side of the house that read 134.

  ‘Right,’ nodded the driver, and walked straight back to his truck without acknowledging Jacob but for a quick glance.

  ‘Asshole,’ whispered Jacob to himself as the tow truck driver quickly reversed back to a clearing under an old oak tree and began unloading it.

  Jacob had seen enough and began to make his way back inside. His cowboy boots jangled quietly under his long thin blue jeans. His white T-shirt was surprisingly still white. Once inside the open door, Jacob caught a quick glance of himself in the hallway mirror. Besides his frowning face, his body looked tall, lean and together. On the wall close by hung a happy photo of himself and Carol. He studied the way his arm held tightly around her shoulder. They looked so ready for life. He shook his head.

  ‘Just put the paperwork in the letterbox,’ shouted Jacob, annoyed.

  He waited. Still no reply from the now whistling, odd driver glancing in his direction.

  ‘Sort it out yourself then!’ said Jacob, slamming the door shut.

  The driver looked quickly over at the sound from the slamming door. He shrugged, then hurriedly stowed his straps and tools back into their metal boxes and drove off in a hurry.

  *

  Back at the window, Jacob eyed the car wreck. Right, left, left, right.

  He opened the front door and slowly ambled over to their once-beloved light blue car. The massive impact on the driver’s side door had bent the door in halfway across the driver’s seat. Jacob’s mouth fell open. He felt dizzy as his knuckles turned white with rage as he gripped helplessly at where the window should be. He moaned and trembled as he slowly but surely slid down against the car crying at his loss. He held on while he knelt on the ground sobbing.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  ‘CAROL!!!’ he wept. ‘God… damn it,’ he whispered.

  Such unbearable emotion only lessened with time. He would never find a better woman. With no energy or inspiration left, Jacob headed back to bed to hide from the world.

  Jacob woke again, reading the words THIS SIDE UP in bold red letters on the box at the bottom of his bed. He lay there thinking of how he had only recently retired. How he had only recently given up playing guitar and singing. How he had only recently decided with Carol that they would move to the country for a quieter life. He thought and thought and again closed his eyes from mental exhaustion and dreamt.

  *

  Carol drove Lightblue as they shared another story about hearing his song at the garage. At the market. At the Moriset Mall. Jacob’s one and only country hit. It was at 72 on the national top 100 this week. Carol was so proud of Jacob as his song played on the radio for the second time today. She had a big smile and bright blue eyes that penetrated his eyes with love. She knew all the words and had a lovely voice to boot. Jacob affectionately called her Betty Rubble, on account of her short dark hair and a lust for blue.

  Jacob’s bucket list was now fulfilled as he looked out the window from the passenger seat. Beautiful wife, country hit. If it went no higher, they cared not. They weren’t struggling. It was more a hobby now for Jacob after the last forty years of push and shove which he had put himself through. Carol, only four years. Thank goodness, he thought.

  ‘Turning Lightblue beach-bound,’ giggled Carol.

  The sun was warm, the going good. A picnic basket sat between them. They passed through the busy intersection under the green light. From a distance, Jacob heard a siren and looked out his window to see which direction it was coming from.

  This time, Jacob had been able to wake from the recurring dream instead of reliving the bright lights of the hospital bed. Besides a few bruises, cuts and having his cheekbone broken after his head had slammed into the window knocking him unconscious, all was behind him. He had recovered. Carol was dead.

  Jacob stood beside the passenger door of Lightblue. He grabbed the handle, and with his thumb, pushed on the chrome button and the heavy light blue metal door opened like a well-oiled Swiss watch. Jacob felt a little unstable on his feet, so sat down inside the car for the first time since the accident. He closed the door and sat looking straight ahead. The breeze was cool under the large leafy old oak. The birds chirped and warbled. Slowly, he closed his eyes and blew out a huge breath.

  ‘Jacob,’ whispered a voice.

  Jacob opened his eyes and looked as a light blue butterfly bounced off the cracked windscreen and flew away.

  ‘Jacob,’ said the voice more pleadingly.

  Jacob’s whole body rushed with fright as he realised someone was sitting next to him in the car. He heard the leather seat move beside him. He slowly turned and to his utter disbelief, Carol sat looking at him.

  ‘Jacob… I miss you so much. Everything is too hard without you. Oh… I’m lost without you, Jacob. I’m tired. So drained. I don’t know what’s happened?’

  Jacob watched on, every emotion he had bubbling up within him wrapped in the amazement of his beloved Carol’s presence.

  Carol turned away, opened the door, and left.

  ‘Carol! Carol!’ blurted out Jacob, hurrying to exit Lightblue.

  He ran around the car and stopped. Painfully, he watched her disappear.

  ‘Carol,’ he stammered.

  Her ghost had visited Jacob. He didn’t feel frightened. It was more of a relief there had been a chance to be with her again. She had looked faint and tired. Nevertheless, it had been Carol.

  He stood wondering if he should go back in the car. Finally, he decided against it. For the first time since the crash, he felt the slight ability to focus, so made his way to the kitchen for some fried eggs and beans. His thoughts raced with the inspiring image of his wife. Somehow, she was still here, still around. Maybe contactable? But how? What could he do to communicate with her? Somewhere, she was looking for him.

  He found a packet of biscuits, ate the lot and washed it down with hot chocolate.