Premonitions, part 2

Peter really was a good guy.  I don't want you to think I was just settling for him.  He was probably even better than I deserved.  I was nothing special, but Peter, he was attractive, smart, and hard working.  And he really cared.  Still, I couldn't get that strange dream out of my head... even a week later...

"Sarah?"

I was hearing the voice again.  I hadn't heard it since that dream a week ago, but there it was again.

"Sarah?"

Slowly I opened my eyes, looked up from my comfortable bed, and saw Peter standing by the closet tying his favorite red tie and looking at me with a hurried but caring look on his face.

"Your alarm apparently didn't go off," he said.  "It's already almost 8."

I shot up in bed like that, all thoughts of my half dream of the morning gone.  "Geeze Peter!" I exclaimed.

His eyes widened a bit, apparently thinking I was angry.  I wasn't.  I smiled.  "What would I do without you?" I asked as I jumped out of bed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before rushing off to the bathroom for the fastest shower of my life.

---

My heart was still pounding as I collapsed into my office chair and glanced around at my co-workers.  I let out a deep sigh as I dropped my purse on the floor and felt the reassurance that no one even noticed I was 10 minutes late.  I should have known nobody would care.  I'm just an office drone, just like everyone else, utterly unnoticeable.  I was just catching my breath, taking deep soothing breaths as I prepared to log on my computer for the day, when I felt my eyes grow wide and a gasp escaped my lips.  I felt my pulse racing again because 10 feet in front of me, standing in front of my boss's office door, with a frustrated look on his face as he addressed a secretary, we the man from my dreams.

Casually I stood up from my desk, straightened my skirt, and walked around my desk and right past them on my way to the washroom.  "But I did make an appointment," I heard him saying.  "John Carpenter, from the City Times."

"I'm sorry, sir, but there's nothing on the calendar."

I didn't hear any more than that.  I couldn't very well stop in the middle of the hallway.  But I had heard enough.  His name was John.  His name was really John.  What did this mean?  How could my dream have involved a man I had never seen before, but really existed, how...

And then it hit me.  The City Times.  He was a reporter.  I was sure I had seen him on the news, probably without even noticing it before.  Maybe even that night a week ago when I had first had the dream.  I smiled and almost laughed as I stopped just short of the women's restroom.  With a shake of my head, I stepped into the room briefly to check my hair and so as not to arouse suspicion, as if that were possible, and then walked straight back to my desk without paying any further attention to John Carpenter.  A reporter.  I felt so much better.  That annoying little mystery was solved and I could get on with my simple, boring, but satisfying little life.