(Psychic’s note:  I could not bear to put an image with this story.)

I’m on the 90th floor of a very tall building.  Looking out of the windows surrounding the cubicles of my office, I can see a lot of other buildings, but only one nearby that is close to the height of this one.  About three blocks away, there’s water, sparkling brilliantly in the bright sunshine.  The sky is clear and blue. Inside, my coworkers and I are carrying on business as usual.  I’m standing, as if I am a supervisor, talking to someone who is sitting in a cubicle. I’m a woman, but I’m not Susan.

Suddenly, there is a loud noise.  Outside, two aircraft fly toward one another in front of our windows.  One of them has a ball on the front instead of a nose cone.  It looks alien, foreign, frightening.  The two aircraft pause and seem to confer, then turn and fly off and out of my line of sight.

Then there is another terrible noise.  Louder than anything I’ve ever heard, and I imagine that must be what a bomb sounds like.  The building shudders in a hard tremor, and everyone in the room starts to run.  I’m running too, and all I can think of is getting home to my children.  I am panicking.  I have to get home to my children.  I’m crying and gasping for breath.

I wake up.  I’m sitting up in my bed in Austin, Texas.  Still panting and crying, I get my bearings.  It is August 27, 2001.  A terrible nightmare.  Worst I have ever had. Where was it?  Tall building, big city, water three blocks away… Chicago?  On a clear day?

I collect myself and try to go back to sleep.

Two weeks later, I am watching the horrific news on TV… and it dawns on me where I had been… and when…  The “how” still escapes me.

Mama-to-Be
How I Knew He Was Going to Die