I Dreamed the Exact Words on a Stranger's Sign Certified True by readers
I dreamed of a man holding a cardboard sign with a strange, specific sentence on it. Three days later I drove past him, on a road I had never taken, holding that exact sign.
I dreamed of a man holding a cardboard sign with a strange, specific sentence on it. Three days later I drove past him, on a road I had never taken, holding that exact sign.
I dreamed my grandmother stood at my bedroom door in her garden coat and said 'lock up behind me.' The phone woke me minutes later; she had died at exactly that time.
At a viewing I told the agent about the crack shaped like a heron before we entered the room it was in — I had been dreaming that hallway for six years.
Since my teens, one unfamiliar face kept appearing in my dreams — always at a blue door. At thirty-one, a rental viewing put me in front of that door, and he opened it.
Three nights running I dreamed of overhead bins bursting open over seat 14C. I swapped my boarding pass at the gate — and met the turbulence from my dream on the news.
The pond was frozen solid and every kid was out on it. A cold certainty told me to get my daughter off, now. I did. Ninety seconds later the ice cracked open exactly where she had been standing.