It was early in the afternoon, and I could almost feel the light draining from the day. Something wasn't right. Still, I ordered another round of Guiness and sat down with friends; friends that I had made through M. He, too, was there. I could feel the rough grain of the wooden table beneath my fingers as we talked and I fidgeted, as is my way. Conversation led to the cars we could see driving up and down the dirt road that ran alongside the Irish pub we were in. A couple of the boys thought they should ask if they could join in, since fishtailing up a dirt road is somewhat appealing to boys, especially after a few drinks.
"Sure, go ahead, they're gonna burn up once that one hits that tree and rolls back into the other two."
Blank stares from everyone at the table followed by "what the hell are you talking about Fliss?", "why would you say something like that?", "that's not even funny. I thought we were having a good day today, why start in on that bull?".
"Sorry" I said, and finished the last of my beer.
The boys that were going to play in the cars got up and walked out, visually and verbally making their annoyance with my comment known.
The sun started to set and it seemed like the afternoon was disappearing quickly into some kind of time warp. I watched the boys walk along the dusty road towards the now moonlit cars, childishly playing in the soft surface beneath the tires. The people left at the table with me seemed oblivious to what was going on just outside that window, yet I could not take my eyes off them. I tried to continue conversation while we drank our beer and celebrated the day that everyone is a little Irish.
The celtic band was playing all sorts of magical, happy notes as young girls dressed in traditional Irish dress danced about in their tap shoes for the well-on-their-way patrons.
Those notes and sounds became blurry as I watched my comment from earlier in the afternoon drift word for word out the window and along the dirt road to where it settled in slow motion on the car sliding into the old, oversized tree that was looming above them. Then came the loud and thunderous boom as the side of the car made contact with the solidness of that tree. Everyone in the bar turned to look out that window by our table, as the sound was so intrusive it had deafened the band. The sky lit up with flames that had been forseen, and the smell of fright and disbelief hung heavy throughout that bar. All eyes watched as the car ricocheted off the tree and into the path of the other two cars that were now frantically trying to gain control and get out of the way. It was useless. More flames as the sound of metal against metal scratched against everyones core.
"What the hell did you do? YOU KNEW!!!!" Accusing eyes were now upon me, like somehow I had something to do with this.
All around me, people erupted into panic and disarray. There were so many legs running towards the burning cars, and screams of help could still be faintly heard above the noise from the twisted wrecks. Confused questions were still being screamed at me while I sat and wondered what had made me say what I had said this afternoon. Had I seen it before? Had I dreamed it? Hadn't those words just come out knowlingly, without even really having to think about it beforehand at all? Yes. That's exactly how it had been. It was as if the image of it was seen for the first time as I spoke the words; like it was something I was conjuring up as I went.
As the final moans of helplessness came from the trapped bodies inside the charred remnants of what once were cars, I walked away from the people who had called me their friend until today. I knew that this would change things. It already had.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
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Precognitive experiences are the most challenging to explain, both to ourselves and to others. I have had my share of "visions" that have become my reality, but nothing as graphic as what you describe here. Fiction?
ReplyDeleteyes ma'am... for this story at least... although i have had plenty of my own, more graphic than this.
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