The omen

I had a strange, surreal dream the night before 9/11/2001. 

Yesterday -- nine years later --  was strange and surreal as well; I remain deeply shaken after the brush with tragedy.

The weirdest thing about it was that I had just asked my sixty-ish friend -- just moments before the accident -- if she had a deck of tarot cards.  "No," she answered, "but I wish I did."  I asked if she had a regular deck of playing cards...and again the answer was no.

I forgot about that detail until this morning, and a chill ran down my body; I realize now that it pertains to a one-sided, one-card tarot reading I did years ago for a loved one...against my better judgement, and much to my regret.

It pains me to say so, but that was no coincidence yesterday; the problem with premonition is that you never realize the accuracy until after the fact.

Two years from now -- September 11, 2012 -- will be eleven years later.

District 11.  I was born on the 22nd; it's my lucky number, eleven twice.  I know it sounds crazy, but I'm spooked as hell. 

It's all an omen...and not a good one, I'm afraid.

Watch the movie and feel your mouth drop...about 3/4ths of the way into it.