"Is this a dream?" I asked myself. The answer was yes, of course, because the only time you ever ask if you’re in a dream is when you actually are.
So it was clearly a dream. One where I was in a dimly lit parking garage.
An enormous black dog walked out from the shadows. A palpable terror washed over me and deep in my heart I knew that it was an omen, that something terrible would happen soon.
Wait a minute. Terrible things happen all the time. I live in the middle of a city. A week without something terrible would be notable.
I was no longer impressed with the dog. “What’s it gonna be? When? I’m not convinced you have any real predictive power.”
"I am a harbinger of doom!" It barked back.
"Doom’s always coming. When is doom not coming? Is it tomorrow? Because I feel like anything after tomorrow is probably not statistically significant."
"And unless I see you more than once I’m not sure how I can establish any sort of-"
"Alright! I don’t know! But everyone is afraid of big black dogs in dreams and I might as well follow that prompt! Everyone just runs away! And then maybe bad stuff happens, not like I know! But oh no, that black dog meant something!"
I think for a moment and bend over with my hands on my knees.
"Who’s a good boy?"
"That is an interesting philosophical question but has no bearing on our current discussion."
"Who’s a good boy-oyyy?"
"I don’t know."
"Are you a good boy?"
"I-I want to be! Could I possibly achieve such a thing?" His tail twitched.
I went down on my knees. “What a good boy!”
"You think I’m a good boy! I will try to be a good boy! I will try so hard!" And I was instantly smothered with a prancing wall of thick black fur.
Three days later a train derailed nearby and five people died.
Shit like that happens.