You're going to have no water left when you'll get thirsty.

Your picture is going to appear on the cover of a famous magazine, and make you the most popular model in the industry.

Your bandmate is going to steal your guitar.

You're going to design a famous garden that will draw in tourists all year -and is designed to appeal to the blind as well as the sighted, because of how carefully you balanced scents as well as visuals, and placed water features and bird-lures and a frog hatchery to bring in the right sounds.

You're going to kill a good chunk of the garden's flowers because of overwatering.

Late in your life, after you've retired, you're going to take up creating children's picture-stories for the blind. You'll do them as pop-up designs for their illustrations and write captions in braille, and they'll actually be designed for the tactile sense, so that listening to someone tell the story orally loses a dimension. They'll become so popular that a generation of children will grow up with at least a rudimentary knowledge of braille and an awareness of the world of the blind that is unprecedented on this scale; you'll be a huge driving force behind a major accessibility movement that will change the fundamental design of the urban landscape and common manufacturing and marketing decision-making processes.

You're going to write a single story in your life and become famous thanks to that one story.

You are going to create a new species of plant that will, after you die, kill all the humans. It won't do it before you die because it will like you too much.

The person in line in front of you will eat the last dango.