My wife and I rented a nice cabin in Big Sur, California, for a few nights. [read more]

She woke up scared and crying from a bad dream, which she never does. I had a bad feeling too and suggested we go for a drive. The farther we drove, the better we felt.

We stayed in Monterey for the night. The cabin we were staying in burned down. I still get chills thinking about it years later.

But sometime deep into the night, I was jolted awake. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t shake this gnawing unease.

I remember looking over and seeing her, still asleep but visibly disturbed, her brow furrowed. Suddenly, she woke up with a start, breathing heavily, and before she could say a word, she broke into quiet tears.

She’d had a nightmare, something she never does, and it shook her more than she’d let on.

By the time we reached Monterey, we both felt like ourselves again, exhausted but relieved. We checked into a small hotel for the night, feeling slightly foolish but at peace. It wasn’t until the next morning, as we were getting breakfast, that we heard the news—the cabin we had stayed in had burned down, completely engulfed in flames not long after we left.

To this day, I get chills when I think about that night. The decision to leave wasn’t rational, yet something deep within us sensed that we had to go. [/read]