When I was a kid, my mother worked at a small grocery shop and went there before breakfast to acquire fresh bakery products for her afternoon shift. Then she’d wake me up for school and ask how I slept, and I’d tell her about any dreams I had that night. One morning, I told her I had a dream about two guys breaking into the store and leaving a red screwdriver on the floor.

My mother was horrified because there was a break-in that night, which is why she couldn’t get anything for breakfast that morning. I then went to school, my mother worked the afternoon shift, and when she got home in the evening, she told me that the police had found a screwdriver on the scene that belonged to the burglar(s). My mother forced me fill out a lottery ticket the next day, but I never won, and I haven’t had similar dreams since.