It’s 9AM

GO CLICK SUBSCRIBE

“I have an idea you can write.”

He said it with a straight face. He’s a dad from the baseball team, a buddy from South AR like me.

We share the same sense of humor, wit and he has a penchant for telling horror stories about his job, which is a candy rep at convenience stores.

A lot of his stories are about meth heads.

I thought that’s what he would say.

But he told me about a dream he had.

A guy looks out of his skyscraper apartment drinking coffee, and a body drops in front of him.

Suddenly, he sees body’s walking out on roofs, walking to the edge and falling off.

Everyone is on a cell phone.

He calls his wife to warn her, but she goes quiet when she answers the phone.

He runs out of his apartment, hears a weird noise on the phone and hangs up, then races to find his wife before she can climb up and jump too.

I told him I thought it was a great idea.

It sounds a little like CELL from Stephen King, and probably touches on some deep seated fears of loss.