The Vision

by William Morgan

My death awaits me.

Today, sometime. I saw it in a vision. My throat will be slashed.

I’m sitting in the corner of my bedroom, gun in my hand, waiting.

I can hear children’s laughter outside, raucous, full of joy, full of future.

My visions destroyed my family. I foresaw their fiery deaths. They would not listen. I couldn’t protect them.

I wait. Trembling with fear.Who’s my killer?

Suddenly, one of the children yells “No!,” and a baseball smashes through my bedroom window.

Time slows as I watch a large shard of broken glass head straight toward me….

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