uncanny

I was unpacking some boxes, putting books and such into my new cabinet... took out something one of my brother's girlfriends once sent me (they were sannyasins). It is a story, a fairy-tale, set in the world of Osho. She put little red confetti hearts in the pages, so a few always fall out when I handle it. I don't think I've read it since the first time I got it, and I did not remember the story, so I decided to read it now again.

It starts,
"It happened, in the World of Osho, that there were two spirits who played together, as dolphins do, dancing in a warm, sensual sea.
They lived in dreams of white marble waterfalls and orchids and were awoken each morning by the chattering of green parrots. Their life was a feast."

I get to the middle of the last page, and read this line:
"It was January 19th, 1990. Osho died."

And I think to myself, wait, isn't today... yep, January 19.