Photo credit: vaXzine via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND
Joseph sat bolt upright in bed. “We have to move,” he said. He wasn’t necessarily talking to anyone in particular. It’s just that the thought was so forceful within him that it came out of his mouth involuntarily.
His wife rolled onto her side so her back was to him. “Don’t tell me you’ve turned into one of those despairing democrats who wants to move to Canada now that Trump is president?”
“No. Canada’s not far enough away. We – we have to go south. Like Argentina.”
Ashley rolled onto her back again in order to look at her husband. “Excuse me?”
He turned to look down at her. “It won’t be safe here. We have to go. As soon as possible.”
“What are you talking about?”
Joseph was already up and digging through a box that lay on their closet floor. “I’ve seen it. The bombs. The destruction. All here. We have to go.”
This time Ashley sat up. “Another one of your dreams?”
Joseph responded in the affirmative without looking up from his rummaging.
At first, Ashley hadn’t wanted to believe Joseph’s dreams were anything more than that, but after a few of them came true, she had been unable to deny it anymore. Only one or two can be brushed off as coincidence. More than that and she had to admit, however grudgingly, that he had something real.
So she knew not to ignore him now. She threw off the covers and jumped out of bed to join him. She went to a drawer in their dresser and pulled out a stack of tarot cards. “I believe you’re looking for these,” she said, holding them out to him.
“Ah, there they are. Yes, thank you, darling.” He took them from her, went to the bed, and barely managed to shuffle them before he started pulling out cards and turning them, face-up, on top of the bedspread.
Ashley watched over his shoulder. “Yeesh. Justice Reversed. The Tower.”
Joseph nodded. “It is as I feared. We have to leave as soon as possible.”
“Shouldn’t we warn them?”
“Who?”
“Everyone.”
“And how do you propose we do that? It’s not like there’s a reputable news agency that will talk to the guy who sees things when he sleeps.”
“They might if it’s a slow news day. Even if they don’t take you seriously, someone watching might. If we can save just one life, it will be worth it.”
Joseph looked around their bedroom. “I don’t know how much time we have.”
“I’ll make the arrangements, let the kids know, and get everyone packed up. You start reaching out to the local media outlets. If we don’t hear back from them by tomorrow, we’ll head out.”
Joseph nodded. She was right. What was the point of having prophetic dreams if you used them only to save yourself?
To be continued…
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