Last night, I had two nightmares.
They had no “story lines,” as most of my dreams do. They were just images, accompanied by something I can only describe as a pronounced feeling of fright. A really intense feeling of being scared.
The images were of graves. And now that I think about it, I’m not sure they were separate; I think it was the same nightmare with an interruption when I partially, briefly, awoke. Perhaps I wasn’t awake long enough to completely dismiss the original image.
Then earlier today, I found out that my last remaining aunt. who turned 100 years old in November and who is suffering from cancer, was hospitalized with pneumonia.
Her doctor doesn’t think she’s going home from this one.
Intuitive? Coincidence? Something else?