Shortly after I got married, I had this recurring dream four nights in a row. It was always the same, so I took it as an omen of my future. In the dream, I was walking across the street when a city bus came out of nowhere and ran me over. I don’t know how far into the future it might be, but I have always assumed since that day that I was destined to meet my end at the front of a bus.
I supposed there are worse ways to go…and possibly better. As far as strange deaths go, it is sort of pedestrian and middle of the road…pun intended. What I have often wondered in the days following is if it was indeed an actual bus or something more metaphorical. Like if I die of a heart attack, which feels like the pressure of a bus on my chest. Or if I die because my spousal unit or son drive me up a wall.