The lights went out.
No. There wasn't no light circuit blow out.
A garbage truck couldn't stop when the traffic lights changed to red. The truck crashed into the car Wayne Bligh was driving. He went to make a right hand turn to try to escape the grid lock of the busy city.
Wayne Bligh didn't wake all the time the firemen worked to cut him free of the tangled mess. When he had been finally cut from the car the ambulance rushed him to the hospital. There were a few abrasions which needed to be stitched. His body was covered in bruises.
A couple of hours later Wayne woke to find he was in bed in a hospital. His body sore and his head ached. The last thing he remembered he had been turning right at an intersection, then nothing.
“So. You have decided to join us. How are you feeling?” The nurse moved to the side of the bed to pick up his wrist to check his pulse.
“What am I doing here. Where is here?” His head groggy from the bang on the head.
“You are in City Hospital. You had a fight with a runaway truck. You are luck to have a few stitches, and plenty of bruising. Anyone you'd like us to call?”
“My wife. Can I have a phone?” The nurse left the room to go to get a phone. She brought it back and plugged it into a socket. “Dial nine to be given an outside line.” She left Wayne to make his call in private.
When she returned to the room the bed was empty. His hospital clothes scattered on the bed. The rest of his belongings were still in the cupboard. She rushed out to the nurses station to report the patient had absconded.
Wayne began to feel the effects of the accident. He had another hour to travel to reach his home. No radio in the car to listen to. The long straight road was boring. Not much traffic. Wayne pulled to the side of the road to limp around in the fresh air to wake up, then he headed off once again.
A little further along the road, Wayne stopped to pick up a hitch-hiker dressed in jeans, a checked shirt, cowboy hat, and boots. He didn't think this person would be any trouble. What would another hit on the head, today. His wonderful had crashed.
“Thanks for stopping. I'm Doug Farley.”
“Geoff Stone,” replied Wayne, not wanting to give his real name.
Doug Farley rambled on telling Wayne he was on his way to surprise his woman friend. He couldn't wait to see her. She was beautiful. An angel. The raving had begun to get on Wayne's frazzled nerves but at least Doug was keeping him awake. Even though the raving made his rage rise high on the Richter scale. The pressure had moved from six to eight when his eyes focused on the handwriting on the envelope in the top pocket of Doug's shirt.
“Where would you like to be left off?” Wayne forced the question through his clenched jaws, when they entered the outskirts of the town. “Any where near Clayton?”
“Treetop Street in Clayton,” replied Doug, unaware of the trouble to come.
Doug swung into the driveway of his rented home. Doug got out of the car not realising he hadn't told Wayne the number of the street. Wayne stepped from the car to follow.
“Shh. Don't slam the car door,” whispered Wayne. “You want to surprise her.”
The both men walked toward the front door of the house without making a sound. Slowly, Doug turned the handle of the door to silently open it.
There were female voices coming from the lounge room.
“Ah. Lola ma cheri. Your body is so beau-ti-ful. So so-ft to the touch. Smooth like silk.”
“Bridget, my darling. You are such a wonderful lover. You set my body on fire,” purred Lola in an erotic voice Wayne had never heard from his wife when they had made love.
Both men stopped at the doorway to the lounge room to watch the two woman on the white fluffy rug making love unaware they had an audience. Wayne had never seen his wife so involved in the art of making love. So alive. Enjoying what she, and her lover, were doing. Why hadn't she acted like that with him. Jealousy helped to bring his rage higher to the point of eruption. He couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing.
Lola, and Bridget, didn't know what fate had in store for the both of them.
Wayne's rage exploded into burning flames, and molten lava. A red mist covered his eyes when he moved like a panther on the prowl for prey. Stalking the beast it intended to kill for a meal. Before knew what he was going to do he grabbed the bronze statue from off the coffee table.
Once the shock of what had happened before his eyes, Doug rushed into the room to see if there was anything he could do to help the women.
He rushed to the phone to call for assistance. There wasn't a think to do because both women were dead. One forceful blow had done the job.
Doug Farley was taken away for questioning.
His finger prints were on the statue from where he had placed it on the table. The car, in which Doug had arrived in had been reported stolen. He was charged with both the murders.
The police tracked Wayne through his accident. When they arrived at the hospital to tell him of his wife's murder, they were told he was missing. Everyone had been searching for him.
Later, Wayne was found wondering around the streets not far from the hospital in a daze. The police rushed him back to the hospital because he didn't know who he was. When told about his wife, he replied, “I don't have a wife.”
Thought this picture would suit the story. Another one I have rehashed from my file.