Two omens, before moving:

1) Like a month before moving, the laundromat near me burned down, with the entire building gone.

2) The week before moving, I heard that the (short) (weirdly-eyed) (dark black) (soft-voiced) (foreign-accented) (homeless) guy who you'd see around the street leading to the resthome, and who would stand in traffic lanes a bit south of there staggering around asking money of cars and even bicyclists who passed by, and who my one (former) (older) (white) (gay) resthome coworker said lacked fingers on one or maybe both hands, the week before moving, I heard that he got struck by a car early in the morning, at that busy intersection. They had posters up near there saying that he had died, but then it turns out that he was just in critical condition, so someone went through with a pen and added phrases like "He lives!" on there, to show people that he was still alive.