Yeah. I know. I know what you’re thinking …

No really. I do. I know because I can see the future – and it’s not ‘garlic bread.’ OK, when I say I can see into the future, I don’t mean all the time. The only people who can do that are Conservative MPs with accounts at betting shops here in the UK. Allegedly. (A little bit of topical political satire for you right there. 😉 )

Anyway, what I’m on about is ‘prophetic dreams.’ Yes, I do have dreams that come true.

It’s not something I’ve written about previously, but prompted by a post yesterday on Laura’s excellent Black Moon Lilith blog I thought I’d share a few of my experiences.

I’ve no idea how these things work, how they manifest. The first dream of this kind I experienced though, appears to have been a lure; an enticement into acceptance of this ‘gift.’ (I’m glad it’s viewed as a ‘gift’ as being a tight-arsed Scotsman, I’m not sure I’d have paid for it.)

It was 1977, I was nineteen years old and I dreamed of a mouse winning the (UK steeplechase) Grand National horse race.

When the race date arrived a couple of weeks later, my dad and I scanned the list of runners and riders. We found a horse called Churchtown Boy. That had to be it! Church mouse? Town mouse? Yeah – that worked, if just a tad convoluted.

An ‘each way’ bet was placed and though he was soundly beaten into second place by the famous Red Rum, we were in the money.

“Wow!” I thought. “This prophetic dream thing’s a dawdle. This time next year, I’ll be a millionaire!”

Accept the gift? I was going to positively embrace it. I was on excitement overload. I had a gift, and boy, was I gonna use it?!

The dour, pragmatic Scotsman in me should have known better. I should have known dreams such as this turn to nightmares.

Little did I realise something much darker, was reeling me in.

(To be continued …)