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birdmad
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a supposedly psychic occurence.
in my family we have been known to see ghosts.
my father saw his father's ghost walking out of our room as my brother and i slept slept, shushing him as he stepped out onto the back porch and disappeared...the night after we buried him...i was only four.
since i was twelve, i have had a dream of a future devoid of all of the utopian sci-fi bullshit, in the dream i am about forty-five or so (give or take a year or two), in the dream, i am cornered in a place that looks like a warehouse, i am somewhere near seattle, i never knew that bremerton, washington was an actual place until three years ago when i met someone from there, but it's the only other identifiable thing in the dream, i am holding a strangely shaped semi-automatic pistol, i squeeze off a short burst toward a sudden sound, the sound of the ocean is fierce outside, there is a severe storm blowing outside, most of the lights fail and i hear the sound of the steps coming closer and i can feel the bullets tear through my flesh and i do not wake up from the dream until the last breath has ome bloody from my lips as i smile gratefully into the faces of my killers, it is cold.
my father knew when he would die, he did not know how, but he did know when, i know both.
but, oh, god have i spent so much time trying to beat fate to the punch
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000503
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