Premonition
Below the spotlight's white heat, perspiration collected on Sam’s brow. He was going to die. Sam knew this because he had premonition dreams. The first was while he was at the New York Film Academy. He dreamt he was with his class on the backlot of Universal Studios and a vehicle hit him. The next day the sight of a dawdling shuttle bus made fear wash over him like a cold sweat and he froze. When he tried to move out of the way he stumbled backward into its route. Fortunately, the only thing hurt was his pride.
Recently, he had been having a reoccurring dream. It started with him walking through a gentle snowfall until he reached a set of steep stairs that led to a stage. He began to audition for a Shakespeare play, but he couldn't stop stammering. Right before he finished a spotlight fell and crushed him to death.
He thought about trying to evade death, but Sam believed in the canons of destiny. So, when he saw the audition call at The Bushwick Starr in November he felt compelled and resigned. On his way there it began to snow, the first snowfall of the year and premature. He ascended the steep steps leading to the theatre and entered.
Under the spotlight, ashen-faced, he began his dialogue. A stutter proceeded each word like the hands of death were already strangling him.
“That's quite enough,” said the Director, her face pinched like she was sucking a lemon, “You can go now,” she waved him away.
“That's it?” Sam asked, “I'm done?”
“If you were attending the same audition I was, yes, you're certainly done,” she said.
“B-but I had a premonition. I'm supposed to die here, now,” he said squinting up at the spotlights, “a light will fall and crush me. It’s got to happen. There was the snow, the steps, and dammit you're doing a production of Shakespeare!”
“Suicide by premonition, ha! I've never heard such a thing,” She said dismissively, “listen, kid, this is a classy theatre, lights don't fall. Furthermore, this is an annual Shakespeare production, you've probably seen advertisements for it. As for the snow, well, that's just a coincidence. Now get off my stage or you'll be removed!”
Sam mumbled an apology and left. He walked down the steps glassy-eyed, certain that it had been his destiny to die. So consumed was he by these thoughts that he stepped out in front of an oncoming bus.