text: I’d gotten used to the flashes of how people’s lives would end - as morbid as it sounds, it didn’t seem to affect me anymore. I suppose that is what happens after 30 years of witnessing such horrors as watching people die before it happens. What was I supposed to do, just live my life isolated from everyone; a life of no human contact? I can’t imagine a more painful and miserable existence - the loneliness would drive me to insanity at best. I’d already been cursed with this sight, I refuse to let myself be cursed with a lifetime of misery, insanity and loneliness. So I learned to make do and suffer through the horror and pain until I was more or less desensitised to it all. No, death doesn’t bother me anymore. Or at least it didn’t until today... Now, believe me when I tell you I have seen some horrific things - I’m talking people being stabbed or gunned down in cold blood or being hit by oncoming traffic. The worst I’d ever seen was the woman pushed onto the rails in front of a train - needless to say I threw up immediately after that one. But even those most horrific images could not prepare me for what I saw today - I’ll explain in a moment, but first I should probably tell you how my sight works so you understand. When I make contact with another person, I see their final 24 hours alive on this earth through their eyes - their las day alive may not be for a few weeks or even for a few years but whatever ending they are destined to have, I witness it. Not the whole 24 hours, just random flashes of the day - usually a minute’s worth - just snippets here and there, always ending with the last few seconds before they die. I’m not exactly sure why I am this way but it has always been this way for as long as I can remember - I honestly think I was cursed with it at birth. I only see it the first time I make contact with that person, so it’s not like I have to spend my entire life avoiding hugs from loved ones and handshakes from colleagues but it is still beyond unsettling to look someone in the eyes and know exactly what wicked plan fate has in store for their demise... I’d moved to a small little town, the kind where everyone knows everyone - as well as every minute detail going on in their lives, although not quite as much as I would I suppose. They’re lucky in that sense. For them, the biggest secret they have to keep from letting slip to Mr. Parks is that his wife is sleeping with their gardener and not that in a few weeks’ time that very same gardener will stab him in the trachea with his rusty shears... Because I can’t intervene - believe me, I’ve tried. But it always ends up happening just as I saw it. As I said before, I was not prepared for today. Not even remotely... It was just an average Saturday midmorning - a beautifull brisk Autumn one at that. The perfect morning for a leisurely stroll down Main Street to get a coffee and some cake, in fact. I glanced out the window at the perfect powder blue sky obscured only by a light dusting of white clouds. A quick check of the pockets of my black trench coat - keys, wallet, phone, check - and I was on my way out the door, greeted by the warmth of the midmorning sun and a soft, cool breeze blowing the crisp yellow leaves across the sidewalk, dancing on the wind. Pure bliss. I hesitated for a moment to take it all in, breathing in the scent of the freshly baked bread drifring along the breeze from the bakery down the street and began to make my way down Cherry Lane towards Main Street. Out of the corner of my eye I observed the strip of almost identical houses with their perfectly pristine vibrant green grass and white picket fences, the only difference setting them apart was the colour of their front doors and window panes. I reachethe corner of Cherry Lane and Main Street, giving a polite smile and wave to Mrs. Parks - not even the slightes bit surprised to see her openly flirting with the gardener in plain sight, almost as if she wanted her husband to catch her. I shuddered as I saw him lean his rusty shears against the hedge as the image of Mr. Parks’ inevitable brural and bloody murder flashed past my eyes. I took a deep breath and continued on my way and pulled out my phone to distract myself from the gruesome thoughts in my head. It wasn’t long before I found myself sucked into endlessly scrolling through my newsfeed seeing post after post from people I really didn’t care for much announcing their pregnancies, promotions and engagements or sharing their uneducated, racist and biased political views. With my face stuck in my phone, I’d barely noticed the street had gotten busier and there were other pedestrians on the sidewalk around me until I collided with someone. Instantly, the flashes began. A phone on the ground, a hand reaching down to pick it up and hand it to someone. A man in a black trench coat with sandy blonde hair, sky blue eyes and a look of pure shock and fear on his face that quickly turned to a nervous smile. A cup of coffee at a small round table and a glimpse of a man in a black trench coat across the room. A park, children running and playing while the crisp yellow leaves drift on the wind - a man in a black coat hovering behind a tree in the distance, watching. Various flashes of different locations throughout the day, each featuring a man in a black coat watching her. And finally, the same face as before with the sandy blonde hair and sky blue eyes only this time covered in a splattering of blood. The flashes stopped abruptly and I stood there in shock. I knew that face, I knew it very well - it was my own. A realisation hit me like a tonne of bricks - this stranger I had just bumped into would die within the next 24 hours and I was somehow connected to their death... I stood frozen in place, eyes wide with shock and fear and jaw hanging open as I tried to catch my breath. I could feel my heart beating fast and hard, pounding in my ears louder than a nightclub’s speakers on a Friday night. I’d seen so many deaths in my time that I thought I could never be fazed by death again but this was the first time I’d witnessed a death I was connected to - possibly even responsible for? Could I be responsible for it - how? Thoughts raced around my head faster than a Ferarri and I was failing to keep up. I couldn’t make I was shaken back to reality by a soft touch of my shoulder and the muffled sound of a soothing voice asking me a question. ‘Sir? Are you...? Are you okay?’ the soothing, soft feminine voice repeated nervously. I blinked and found myself back on Main Street facing a young woman no older than her early 20s, her chocolate brown eyes looking up at me in concern. Realising I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost, I made a nervous attempt at a smile to try and calm her concern. ‘Sorry, I was... Somewhere else... I’m fine! I’m so sorry, I just didn’t see you there - I was too busy uh...’ I motioned towards my right hand meaning to hold up my phone only to realise it wasn’t there. The young girl in front of me held out my phone and handed it to me. ‘Here, you dropped this. Are you sure you’re okay, sir?’ I pondered my response for a moment, knowing full well that I was most definitely not okay. ‘I’m fine, I promise. Maybe just a bit shaken by the article I was reading. You have a lovely day.’ I calmly lied with what I hoped was a convincing and reassuring smile on my face - what was I supposed to say? No, I’m not okay - I think I might be responsible for your death? Because that wouldn’t make me sound like an absolute maniac, not at all. She smiled sweetly and gave a small wave before continuing on her way as I leaned against the wall aimlessly tapping my phone pretending to send a text while I watched her out of the corner of my eye. How was I connected to her and more importantly to her death? I needed to know, the confusion and question was firing through my brain at lightning speed. I watched as she continued to walk down the street, her long mahogany hair flicking behind her as she paused to throw a cautionary glance over her right shoulder back in my direction showing a genuine look of concern - whether it was concern for me or concern about me, I was not sure though I would not blame her for either. I hesitated for a moment once she was a considerable distance away and suddenly found myself following her path, my desperate need for answers overriding all sense of reason and logic. I watched, careful to maintain a safe distance between us, as she wandered down the street - her forest green peacoat a helpful visual indicator. She slowed stopping outside the café, peering through the window before looking down at her phone seemingly annoyed. I stopped and leaned against a pole as I watched her make a call. I knew I shouldn’t but it was like I had lost all concept of impulse control and I found myself trying to listen in as she left an unhappy voicemail telling someone she was at the café and would meet them there before hanging up and walking inside. I spent the next minute standing there facing the biggest internal struggle I’d ever found myself in. Conflicting thoughts shot back and forth through my brain as I tried to convince myself not to follow her in. I’d already taken this far further than I’d have liked to and yet I desperately needed answers. ‘Don’t do this, Alex. Don’t be that guy...’ I pleaded with myself, though it seemed my legs and my mind were not on the same page and I found myself heading to the door to the café. I guess I was doing this, then. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath as I entered the café, the warm welcoming of aroma of fresh coffee enveloping my nostrils and a feeling of peace washing over me. ‘At least she chose a café...’ I thought to myself knowing if there was any scent that always calm my nerves even in the most stressful of situations none could compare. I opened my eyes and scanned the room slowly and with a clear purpose, making a mental note of the eclectic and cutesy atmosphere around me - I’d have to remember to return in far more appropriate circumstances. My eyes passed over a mismatched collection of ‘vintage’ tables and chairs, few empty and an abundance of familiar faces filling the remainder - the numerous conversations and laughs all blurring into one big roar. I glanced across the various abstract art pieces hanging across the walls adding vibrant pops of bold colour to the room, my eyes only searching for one thing and one thing alone - the forest green coat. ‘Thanks! Have a good day,’ I heard her newly familiar voice over all the others in the room and turned my head to face the cashier’s desk and saw her walking away with a coffee in hand. My gaze followed her as she sat in a corner near the window. While the aroma of coffee filling the room was all too enticing, I couldn’t afford to take my eyes off her and lose her so I chose to sit several tables away - close enough to seem coincidental but far enough to still see and hear her. For the next half hour, I carefully watched out of the corner of my eye while pretending to play on my phone. She carefully stirred her coffee, only taking a sip at a time in between glances at her phone that progressively made her seem more and more frustrated. As she finished her coffee she raised her phone to her ear, getting evidently frustrated with every ring. ‘Hi Sam, it’s Jodie. I’m guessing you forgot we were meant to meet for coffee this morning? I’m only in town for another day so please call me when you get this. Thanks, bye.’ She sternly said into the phone before pocketing it and grabbing her jacket to leave. I watched as she walked out the door and turned right and counted to 5 before slowly following. I followed her for the rest of the day. She walked next door to the park and sat on a bench watching the children play nearby. I kept my distance and watched from across the park. I couldn’t figure out why but as she sat there I saw her get increasingly more nervous, holding her phone in one hand and clutching her purse in the other. Eventually, she rose and left proceeding down the street proceedingly getting more and more nervous and looking over her shoulder every few minutes. As she reached the corner of a road she needed to cross, she stopped and reached into her purse with her left hand and turned to face me with the same hand behind her back. ‘Why are you following me? What do you want from me?’ She asked me point blank, fear in her voice and I eyes. I stopped in my tracks, frozen and without an an answer. I opened my mouth and stammered before she lifted her hand from behind her back and using both hands to aim a black pistol at my chest. ‘I’ll ask you again,’ she said, all sense of fear having left her voice and eyes only to be replaced with pure anger. ‘WHAT DO YOU WANT?! WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?!’ My eyes widened with fear and I raised my left hand in front of me to try and calm her down before finally saying ‘I can’t explain how I know this but today is your last day. You will die toda-‘ BANG! Before I knew what was happening, I saw her eyes widen and felt splatters on my face. Then I felt the pain in my hand and looked down to see a hole right through it and felt the blood begin to ooze from my chest. As I grabbed my chest and began to fall to the floor, I watched her drop the gun and start walking backwards. I opened my mouth to try and warn her but no sound came out and I watched as the ute speeding through the intersection ran her down before coming to a screeching halt. As I lay in the pool of my own blood listening to the driver screaming and sobbing on the phone to emergency services, I reminded myself - my visions always come true, I can never stop them.