It was so beautiful outside today that I had a sappy grin on my face as I left the new coffee shop after a latte and some productive work. Then I heard Renee Fleming on the radio and got tears in my eyes, and I'm not even an opera fan. That's when I began feeling that something awful was bound to happen: I would either run over a child darting into the street, my boss would have been killed earlier that very morning, or I would get a call from the daycare with news that 2 was dreadfully ill.
In the office, under the fluorescent lights, shades mostly drawn, the giddy fear of pleasure faded.
My husband called--unusually--to tell me to check CNN for news of a fatal multiple shooting at an Amish school, perhaps not far from my relatives or friends of 1. So callous am I towards bad news that doesn't involve me--the school was not in the right town--that I didn't even think until many hours later that someone in Pennsylvania had her lovely-day premonition come true.
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