Goines On: His last thought

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With the morning’s snow came a sense of foreboding. Was it a premonition? Goines couldn’t reliably say he had ever had a premonition – that he could remember anyway – a sense of disaster that came to pass. What did a premonition feel like? And did he even want to know that his sense of foreboding was a premonition? Wasn’t it better just to be afraid? Surely the feeling would pass; the disaster might not.
    Taking out the bird feeders, Goines almost slid and fell on the Goineses’ snow-covered northwest patio. Each hand held a feeder, so he gingerly shuffled his feet to the lawn before walking more safely to the stanchions.