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I awoke with a start, again. It was the third time this week i had envisioned my own death in a dream. Soon I would begin believe in these dreams, and if that happened, I would die eveynight of my life. Once again the man killing me was John, my co-worker on the Ford assmebly line. We were eating in the workers lounge when he came up to me and released a bullet into the back of my skull. Of course, I never saw my body after the shot because insted of seing my own dead body on the floor, or complete darkness, I would see my own beadroom and my wife sitting next to me asking why I had suddenly leaped out of bed at an alarming rate. I always shared my problems with her, but this time I kept my malicious dream to myself. After ensuring her that it was nothing more than a bad dream I headed downstairs. I was awake now, and after that dream, I wasn't about to go back to sleep. After drinking two coffee's I sat on my armchair and stared at the black T.V. screen reminising on what had just occured.


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