So, I don’t usually write about my dreams for fear that they will expose the true depths of my madness. That or bore the hell out of my readers.
This morning, at 2:48 a.m. I was startled awake by the image of a man falling to his death in my dreams.
I was fairly disturbed, but it was still dark out and well, I was in my bed, so I went back to sleep.
When I woke up again at 8, I saw this story on the news.
A sanitation truck driver died early Monday morning after his truck slammed into a guardrail on the Brooklyn Queens Expressway.
Police say the driver was thrown from the truck, which is still hanging from the roadway, causing major delays.
According to the reporter at the scene, he fell to his death shortly before 3 this morning. Further creeping me out is the fact that I was driving along Furman street (the street on which he fell) exactly 24 hours before his death.
All of which begs the question…how can I make money off of these strange new powers?