Gerry leaned against the wooden porch rail for support and closed his eyes tightly. His thoughts revved up once again. This was the first moment that Gerry began to realize that he was dead.                         

I can't remember how I got here. When was the last time I bought or for that matter ate food? Have I slept recently? Used the bathroom? Who was the last person I spoke to? Gerry was making his way to the accident one short memory at a time. Deciding to go inside and sit down Gerry reached for the door. His hand passed though the door along with the rest of him. Another question surfaced - How long have I been doing that trick? 

Gerry had 12 years in at Benco making coil packs for various car makers. The company was doing well and while it wasn't the greatest job in the world it met Gerry's needs. Since his wife had abandoned the family, he needed steady work to take care of his kids Megan and Max. Helping them with college tuition was Gerry's only financial goal. He had even considered selling the cottage for extra money but when Mark decided to pass on the offer he was in the clear. His son didn't see the need for college since his band was going to hit it big any time now.  

Thursday morning Gerry left his home a few minutes early. The forecast called for flurries with a chance of a snow shower. A chance of snow in northern Michigan was like saying it might be hot in hell. He was pleased with his decision. There was less traffic and the slap of the wipers on the low setting kept his windshield clean. The roads were white with the fresh snow. Gerry chuckled to himself as the snow fall gained strength. 'Chance my ass!' he said as he came to a red light. Gerry tapped the brakes but when they failed to respond, the car pitched to the left. There was no doubt that he was going run the red. 

Back at the cottage Gerry's memory allowed him to recall the accident. The Dodge Ram that disfigured his red Cobalt. The distant screams of the Dodge's driver telling him to hang in there - everything was going to be O.K. He remembered rolling his eyes due to the fact that his car had flipped and he was actually "hanging in there" by his seat belt. Gerry still smiled at the irony. But what happened next? Did I die in the car? Why did I come here? Where is the heaven or hell my catholic religion spoke of? The How long have I been here? Months, days, hours and minutes had lost all meaning.