“I was on my way to your house to visit.” I was not on my way to Sally’s house to visit. I had a vision of that cat falling out of her tree. The cat is eighteen years old. It’s half blind and totally deaf. I mean, lots of people think cats are “selectively deaf.” That is not the case with this cat. She is totally deaf. And Sally loves her.

Sally is a widow. She’s a former doctor from Seattle. Her husband died last year. She is seventy-four and has been pushing that cat in a cat stroller for years. In fact her husband made her a cat stroller before cat strollers were even a thing. That’s how much she loves Ellen.

But the problem wasn’t only the cat. I saw the cat falling from the tree and one of Beck Hornwith’s dogs biting it. The cat died. I saw Sally weeping over her body, and I couldn’t stand it. That’s why I had to run, which I hate to do, to her house. Running should be outlawed.

“No, you weren’t coming over to visit, but thanks for saving Ellen.”

“You’re welcome.”

“But what’s it like? Can you see anything about me?”

I held a book out. The book was about the national parks.

She put a hand to her throat. “Oh, my goodness! Why? I wonder why? I’ll take it, Evie!”

* * *

One week later, Sally booked a trip with a traveling group to see four national parks.

I had zippo premonitions about Sally. She needed to get out of her grief and live a little.

She had a terrific time.

* * *

The car accident premonition arrived smack out of the blue again as I was driving to the bookstore the next morning. The tight, curving road in the mountain was the same, the sunlight filtering through, the orange poppies.

But this time, when the red car came into view, instead of crashing straight into me, the driver, a woman, turned the wheel to her right when we were still ten feet away from each other and sent her car flying off the side of the road and down the cliff.

I stopped and I ran out of my truck. I saw the woman’s head hanging limply out the window, her short black hair still.

She looked dead, and I scrambled down the cliff and ran to her.

Then I lost my footing and started to fall. I screamed as I crashed down the cliff, rolling, flipping, landing hard.

One of us died. Probably. I felt a death, then it skittered away. I can’t believe that this premonition does not give me more clarity. All my premonitions give me clarity. I see what’s going to happen.

Why does this premonition change and shift? I have no idea why, and that makes me worry more than anything else.

* * *