Three days before flying home from Paris last year, I had a near death experience. I knew with the dazzling clarity of a burning bush my plane would be shot from the sky and I’d perish in a fiery ball of, well, fire.
This wasn’t a prediction, or a premonition, or anything else a professional clairvoyant is supposed to get.
This wasn’t when guides appear with dire warnings. This was a fact. I knew it in my bones.