I had a paper route when I was younger and delivered it to a lady named Margie. She was very old and lived alone, so I’d take the paper inside and check on her. One day, I went in and she was asleep on the bed, so I put the paper on the table and left. The next day, she was asleep again, and the other newspaper was still unopened. The following day, I went in and Margie was awake. She said she was very happy and gave me a hug. But the day after that, there were cars outside her house. Apparently, Margie had died in her bed, three or four days beforehand. Somehow I spoke to and hugged her about 24 hours earlier when she was already dead.
—Sejl Ó Longáin, Facebook
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