For five years, every day that he worked, he walked past a particular spot in the stockroom. And every time he walked past that spot, a vision would pop into his head. In it, he would see the metal shelves that held the excess merchandise collapsing, crushing him under thousands of pounds of steel and boxes. That vision, he could not escape.
On his first day, he attributed it to nerves. Everyone gets nervous when they start a new job. But still it came the second day, and the third, and all of them after that.
When the pattern emerged, he did his best to avoid that particular spot, but it was no use. To get to the loading docks, you had to walk past it and he needed to go to the docks every day. So, he was stuck replaying this vision over and over again. It haunted him.
When he would tell his coworkers his fears, they would laugh at him, call him crazy, or both. It was something he couldn’t explain properly because he didn’t fully understand it himself. Maybe he really was going crazy.
To his credit, there were a few stretches over the years where he was able to push it to the back of his mind. Like today. It had barely registered with him that he was walking past it.
Then he heard someone yell out a warning.
He turned just in time to see the forklift veer away from him. By avoiding him, the forklift driver ran the machine into the corner beam of the steel shelves, bending it. Now unable to support the weight, the shelves began to collapse, falling right at him. He didn’t run. He didn’t duck. He just stood there as certain death fell upon him.
A sad smile made its way to his lips as he thought, I knew it. I was right all along.