It was a truly strange moment. Well, for Adam anyway. He stood there in the faint light of the restaurant coming through the window, the snow falling light and soft around him. He and his fiance, Juliet, had just left dinner with his family, celebrating his birthday. His parents, always asking after him, only wished him the best and wanted him to be happy in life, and tonight’s discussions and commentary were no different. His little sister and her wife joked about how growing old is mandatory, but growing old is optional. Much to his surprise and relief, the company was lighthearted and unusually lacking any of the normal mundane drama that they argue and barb about. Adam wasn’t against it by any means, but it was strange enough to make him think about it. And thinking about things is when they went sideways.

Everything was fine, up until Juliet said something as they went out the front door of the restaurant. “If only they could be like that more often. Your parents, I mean, your sister’s great.” Nothing spellbinding about the words themselves, but it stuck in his head like a memory replaying itself. He stood there, silently, his eyes darting around at nothing in the middle distance as his brain worked to figure out what was so damn familiar about the night.

Something else pulled at his focus. Something not his own, something invasive. Like a shadow of a figure casually suggesting with words and pictures to fill in the missing time he suddenly felt. Ghastly figures and monstrosities terrorizing the people, unnatural disasters ripping apart the landscape, and a world full of fear as it desperately searches for the last vestiges of hope. These fragments of scenery, these aberrations of thought, could not possibly anything real. Yet, somehow, his mind accepted them as if it were as real as the snowfall he felt in that moment outside. His mind had managed to bridge the real and unreal of what had just washed over him, and the only thing he was left with is that he didn’t know why that happened.

“Adam!”

The call of his name finally broke through his train of thought. He blinked back into the present.

“Babe, where’d you go? You okay?” Juliet asked.

He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s okay.”

“Adam?” she asked sternly, seeing past the deflection.

“It’s nothing, really,” he shrugged and started to walk. She pressed him on it again, and he said, “You know how I get sometimes. It was just a weird case of deja vu.”

She stopped him, holding him in place with her arms on his. “You are a terrible liar. We both know that. What’s wrong?”

He avoided her gaze for a moment, thinking of how to push this off a little longer. How does one explain a prophecy about the end of the world in the parking lot of a local mall? All he was missing was the cardboard picket sign and a tinfoil hat.

“I’m not lying,” he started shakily. “I haven’t had deja vu like that since I was a kid, you know when that–“

Juliet immediately let go of him. “Oh my god, yeah, I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“It’s just been such a good night. I don’t want to ruin it.”

Juliet smiled up at him apologetically. “Okay, yeah, we don’t have to talk about it. Let’s just go home.”

That invasive shadow creeped in one more time, the image of Juliet dying in his arms. She blames him. As quickly as it came in, the unreal suggestion was gone.

“You know I love you, right?” he said, trying to pull himself from that darkness.

She took his hand as they walked back to the car. “I know.”