When Diane walked into the room, she immediately knew that the man who was going to kill her was there. Diane has known about her death for six weeks; she has seen it happen, repeatedly, in her dreams.
She will be standing near a stream, on a bright, warm, spring day. Looking at the sky, an airplane passes overhead, she hears laughter, and out of nowhere, a bullet pierces her skull. In her dreams, she hears the gunshot, but she knows that when it really happens she’ll be dead before the sound reaches her.
Diane has had premonitions, through her dreams, since childhood. She’s come to accept them as a part of her life. She’s learned that nothing she does will change what happens in her dreams. When she was twelve, she dreamt that a coyote killed her dog. She kept Spot on a leash, and watched over her constantly, to stop it from happening. Diane went in the house for a drink of water; she was only gone for a moment. But when she came out, her dog was dead.
At the age of sixteen, she dreamt that her best friend died by falling from a great height. Diane convinced her friend not to go on a weekend skiing trip with her family, and instead they spent the weekend together. She has never been able to understand why, while Diane watched TV, her friend climbed out of the bedroom window and fell to her death.
It wasn’t clear to Diane whether her death was an accident, or a murder. She also wasn’t sure how she knew that the man who would be responsible for her death was in the room. Her dreams didn’t tell her who fired the gun that killed her, but somehow she knew he was here. Diane looked around the room at the group of people who’d come to celebrate her thirty-first birthday. There was only one person that she didn’t recognize, so she walked up to him and introduced herself.
“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Diane.”
The man laughed, and replied, “Diane, don’t you recognize me?”
That laughter sounded so familiar, where has she heard it?
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked while studying the man’s face.
“You’ve never seen me before, but we’ve met.”
“I don’t understand, you say we’ve met, but I’ve never seen you? How’s that possible?”
“Our lives have been brought together by fate,” he said, “for the past few weeks, I’ve dreamt about you, as I’m sure you’ve dreamt of me.”
Diane was too stunned to respond, and didn’t try to stop him as he gently held her hand and led her outside.
“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” he said, “let’s walk for a moment.”
Finally finding her voice, Diane asks him, “Who are you and what were your dreams of me about?”
Walking hand in hand, he tells her, “My name is Grant. I’ve had dreams since childhood that have always come true. I’ve seen my friend’s death before it’s happened, as I’m sure you have. I’ve learned to accept the dreams as something that’s beyond my control. I’ve dreamt that we would meet at this party, and we would walk together, talking about our lives. Haven’t you had this dream too?”
“No, I haven’t, but you seem familiar to me. I recognized your laugh, but that’s all. So, what happens next in your dream?”
Looking around her, Diane notices what a beautiful day it is. When she notices the stream, she doesn’t bother to look at the plane passing overhead, and instead listens for the laughter.