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Time Anomaly in the Wigan Wood




This event occurred on August 17, 2013 in Wigan, England. I was out in my local wood with my two dogs, walking the same route I had used on many occasions. Most times whilst walking this route I would bear left at the bottom of the footpath and walk through the trees up to a path running along farmers' fields and return back that way from where I started. This area of wood is quite dense and flat.


On this day, though, as I took this route all was normal as I began my walk through the trees. Then the landscape changed. The dense trees changed to scene of small hills which led to a ravine with about a 25-foot drop to a stream with a small well-worn bridge over it as I looked to my right.


Unable to grasp what was happening, I continued walking, looking for the path along the field which should have been there, but never came. After about 15 minutes, I was starting to get really anxious as to how I could be lost and just what was happening when I suddenly heard voices, but could see no one. I walked in the direction of the voices and was then amazed to almost walk into a man and his son, who seemed to come from nowhere.


After pausing for a minute, I then realised where I was in the wood. To my amazement, I was hundreds of yards north and to the back of where I entered. I could not comprehend how I could have got to be there. Even more strange as I entered the wood I had glanced at my watch it was 10:15 a.m. Shortly after bumping into the man and his son, I looked again it was 10:17 a.m. Time had not moved whilst lost in the wood.



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Blip in Time


by Glenn


This incident happened to me when I was a university student in Nova Scotia, Canada in about 1991. I decided to take the express bus to my home town one night to visit my parents for the weekend. I sat at the back of the bus and there was nobody around me, but there was a family sitting behind the driver in the front. The bus ride was uneventful until we came close to my parents home town.


I was looking out the window and I looked at the Michelin tire factory as we went by it going uphill. When the bus reached the top of the hill, I got a strange feeling and for some unknown reason I started to imagine many people on the bus laughing at me!


Right then there was a blip in reality and the bus was suddenly about a mile back on the highway! I then had the experience of watching the bus drive by the tire factory again! This kind of scared me and I noticed that the family sitting in the front, who were talking loudly before, were now dead quiet.


I approached the bus driver when we stopped and told him what I thought happened. He looked really nervous and he said something like, "Things like that happen." It was like a distortion in time and space.



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Future City


by Daisy


Before my weird encounter, I was an extreme skeptic, but my friend, Rick, was what I would call a devoted believer in the supernatural.


It all began when Rick and I were going to a friend's house last September. We were driving Rick's beat up old truck (but he loved it anyway) and the drive went smoothly for the first 45 minutes.


Suddenly, the truck's engine died and Rick and I were stranded (to our knowledge) on a deserted highway in the middle of the night. We were surrounded on both sides of the road by cornfields that stretched into the distance. Rick began a desperate effort to restart the truck and fix the "broken" engine. He tried to fix the truck in vain, but nothing seemed to work. Rick finally gave up and we decided to walk to the nearest town about two miles away to find a payphone to call our friend.


We walked for what seemed like hours and the town was nowhere in sight. However, just when desperation was about to grip us, we saw a light, a gloriously bright light, shining over the steep hill ahead of us. We ran up the steep hill that blocked us from the light and were flabbergasted by what we saw.


Just over the hill, Rick and I saw what could only be described as a futuristic city with lights streaming out of every window of the massive, metallic towers. In the middle of the futuristic city, was a huge silver dome. I stared at the city, stunned, until Rick elbowed me, which pulled me out of my trance and he pointed to the sky. Hovering above the city were hundreds of hovercraft. One flew toward us with amazing speed. Rick and I were so scared that we took off running back to the broken down truck.


I never looked back, but I felt someone watching me the whole way. When we got back to the truck, it started without difficulty and Rick and I took off as fast as we could in the opposite direction. We never went back or spoke of it again to this day.



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Car Wreck in Time




This happened to me in the summer of 1988. I was out of work at the time. The job service gave me a list of jobs to check on. I was in the area of Rutherfordton, North Carolina and I was lost, so I do not know the exact place where it happened.


I was driving down a dirt road, trying to find my way back to the paved road. Not even sure how or when I left the paved road. As I driving, the left side of the road opened up into this big overgrown field. The right side of the road was trees. About a hundred yards up from that point the road turned to the left. Just as I was about to make the turn left, I could see that a few hundred feet ahead the road turned back to the right.


At that point I saw a car come around the turn up ahead and it did not make the turn, but went into the field. I thought to myself, Some fool just wrecked a classic antique car. It was a 1940s-type car. Not sure of make or model. I raced to scene of the accident only not to see any car. I was like, "What the -- ?"


Then I saw the car! There it was, all rusted out and the tires long since rotted off. The car had been there for 30 or 40 years from the looks of it. But I had just seen it wreck not two minutes before!


I almost wrecked my own car getting out of there. After a few miles I found myself all of a sudden back on a paved road. I stopped and got out and looked back, wondering when the dirt turned back to pavement. I drove back down the road for about three miles, coming into a small town -- and the road never did turn back to the dirt road. My car was cover with dust from the dirt road that no longer existed. As to what happened that day I will never know.



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Farmhouse Out of Time




This took place in August, 2013. I am a keen walker and love to explore with my dogs. I have a good sense of direction and I can wander around for hours quite happily.


A couple of weeks ago I decided to follow a sign for a public footpath quite close to Leeds Bradford airport, West Yorkshire, England. As I made my way along the path, it dropped down toward a rather large and old-fashioned farmhouse. As the path appeared to go through the garden, I called my dogs to me and bent down to attach their leads. As I was doing this, I got the feeling I was been watched. I stood up and turned around... nothing and nobody in sight.


Then I looked up to the top left window of the house, and there was a little boy. The boy was aged about nine or ten and was sitting sideways at the window on what must have been a window seat. He had his knees drawn up to his chin and his hands clasped around them. I felt really unsettled and hurried up the path a little way.


Then it struck me what was wrong with the little boy I had seen. He looked as if he was out of time, dressed in grey knee shorts, a white shirt with what looked like a grey tank top, and his hair was dark and so obviously a "pudding bowl" home cut. He looked straight out of the 1950s.


I was really unsettled because his sadness was overwhelming me. This was lunchtime on a lovely warm day, but I felt terribly sad and cold, so hurried away.


When I arrived home, I explained what happened to my husband. He came on the walk with me the next day. As we approached the house, I started to feel a little unsettled and instinctively looked toward the window. No little boy this time, but the house appeared to look different. Instead of the old farmhouse that I had seen the previous day, it was obviously a re-furbished version. The stonework looked clean and the windows fresh and new or newly painted. The drive way that had previously been a bit overgrown was now neatly covered in gravel with a new 4x4 and a sports car parked on it.


I am not given to flights of fancy, but I strongly believe that I have experienced some sort of momentary glimpse into the past of this house.



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Missing Time in Hocking Hills

I am a 31 years of age and live in Pennsylvania at the time of this posting. I have read through several stories on Your True Tales and I wanted to share something that happened back in mid-September of 2008 with my best friend Ciera (pronounced Sierra) and me.

We went to a park named Hocking Hills in Ohio for a day retreat from our busy lives. We decided on this at random when we first got together early in the morning just after sunrise. It was a nice warm late summer day and we'd just got the wild notion to go for a drive to Hocking Hills since the area is well known for its several walking trails, a cave or two, and several waterfalls and creek areas. The day was very warm maybe roughly 70 degrees Fahrenheit / 21 degrees Celsius so we had worn shorts and short-sleeved T-shirts.

We started down a trail at random and found that part of the trail had been washed out, so we had to take another path which according to our phone's GPS app would force us to cross a small country road. As we played with our mobile phones and noted it was roughly 12:00 noon, we happened to be passed by a group of backpackers before we reached the road. One of the people turned around to warn us to be aware of a wash out up ahead if we were going to take the trail into the woods. They recommended we follow the one next to the fire tower instead, as it by-passed a small clump of downed brush.

As we crossed the road to the tower trail, we noticed there was caution tape all over the fire tower. There was a pungent smell in the air, which we could not identify. The windows on top of the tower appeared to be taped up, grimy, and there were flies all over the area. We walked past it, commenting how odd it was, and continued down the trail we had been recommend to take, but it was one neither of us had noticed before on a previous walk to the area. This trail took us past the fire tower and then cut into the woodlands.

As we walked into the forest maybe 1,500 feet or so, we took notice that no one seemed to be around and, in fact, not only did we feel isolated from others, but we felt very chilled without explanation. Ciera pointed it out verbally while I was thinking it, but we just continued walking.

Eventually, the air started to get noticeably chillier and damper. This did not seem unusual at first, but as we continued to walk the air seemed to go from warm to what felt like the mid-50s Fahrenheit and we started to shiver. It was also getting darker as we continued forward. At first I thought it was just due to the green leaves on the trees and maybe a passing cloud overhead, but the darkness really did not improve as one expected.

As we walked, we looked around and there were nothing but trees on all sides. There should have been a forest edge somewhere as the area wasn't really that big, but aside from some hills and tall pine trees, there wasn't a real ending to the woods like we expected, as the area tends to be narrow and normally we could see the edges.

My friend took out her phone to use her GPS because she instinctively felt lost, but her battery was nearly gone. I took mine out of my back pocket and it had no signal; the battery was also nearly dead, and showed "EE:EE" for the time (meaning it couldn't update as it was an older style flip-phone with camera and when set to auto-adjust would contact the mobile phone network every 15 min).

It was only then as the light grew dimmer that I noticed the area seemed very silent. Our footsteps, the leaves we stepped on, grass, twigs, and our breathing just echoed. Ciera got spooked and I did, too. She mentioned it was very out of the ordinary and I agreed, but I couldn't shake this sense of foreboding that something was amiss. I tried to rationalize it, but I really, honestly, couldn't figure any of it out at all.

We just pressed onward, and after going down a small hill and back up, it seemed to have gotten a lot darker. The world seemed to have gone from just shadowy to near twilight darkness. My friend grabbed my arm and started freaking out about how weird it got - then the air seemed to have gone still and we had a feeling of something wrong.

We both took off running, looking for an exit. For some odd reason we never thought to turn around at all and just go back the way we came. It never seemed to occur to us as we ran, but the spookiness continued as we could hear our steps echo off the area as things just felt like they grew more gloomy.

Then ahead of us down another small dip in the trail we could see two large honeysuckle bushes on either side of the trail, like a gate. We made a mad dash for these bushes, and just as we pushed through the plants something odd happened: we were overwhelmed by a change in our surroundings as light, sound, and warmth returned all at once. It was like stepping outside of a cold, empty, and dark building to a warm busy street. We stood at the edge of a place known as Ash Cave, which has a large waterfall not too far away with a u-shaped cliff.

I turned around to look back from where we emerged, and while the bushes were the same, the area was so different, brighter, not silent for sure, and warm. In fact our skin was cold to touch, which just reinforced the facts. We took out our phones and the time had finally updated. It was now 4 p.m. The normal trail would only have taken an hour to walk fully, so it was a loss of three full hours!

Logic attempted to set in and we decided the trail we came up must have just appeared creepy because there may have been clouds overhead or a storm blew by, but when we went back between the bushes there was no trail. Nothing looked like it had a few seconds ago. Ciera walked around the bushes twice and it was the same bright sunny day with no darkness and no trail. We waited... it was blue sky overhead and we could see the edges of the forest and other people. The trail had simply vanished as it we had never walked it.

On returning to the normal trail with the washout, we ended up locating an offshoot path which took us back past the fire tower. It was here we noticed it was normal looking as the windows were not taped and very clean, and there was no pungent smell.

We don't know what it was, but it certainly was creepy. Of course, I jokingly told her later that day over dinner we had entered the faerie realms by mistake and were lucky to get away. She didn't find that funny, of course, but either way we both felt we should share this with you, and if anyone out there has had a similar experience, perhaps they can provide insight or share their own.

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Super Exhaustion or Missing Time?

I had a case of what could be called "missing time." My experience occured at McGuire Air Force Base, New Jersey (my dad was in the military,) in 1992 around the spring months.

When I was in high school, I was practically obsessed with exercise. I would work out at home before school, at school during gym class, and when I got home I'd work out again. Working out so fanatically tends to make one tired.

One day after school, I noticed that I was extremely tired - more so than usual. I was so tired, in fact, that I didn't do my homework or even eat dinner when I got home. I went straight to bed.

I got into my night apparel, turned out my bedroom light, and climbed into bed. As soon as I closed my eyes, the light turned on and I heard my mother's voice telling me that it was time to get up for school. I immediately thought she was joking. But I glanced at my clock and it was indeed morning and time for me to get ready for school.

I had no recollection of sleeping, and I felt like crying because I was so tired. I'd like to make it clear that as soon as my eyes shut, my mother flicked on the light switch. There was no discernable lapse in time from the moment my eyes closed to my bedroom light being turned on. Not to mention that if I was so tired, why wasn't it harder for my mom to wake me?

I should have been able to sleep though Armageddon, seeing as how I was so worn out. To this day, I haven't been able to explain this experience. Needless to say, I had a horribly unproductive day at school, being so fatigued.

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Road Vortex

My true story took place in October, 2010. My husband just had triple bypass surgery, and after being discharged from the hospital, he spent the next ten days in a facility for cardiac rehab. The facility is situated on a lonely country road in Berkshire County, Massachusetts.

One night when I left the facility, it was already dark, so I took the main route back instead of the shortcut, because I don't like to travel those dark roads alone. I passed Williams College, the Willlows Motel, Subway, and all the local businesses on this route, and was just crossing into the city of North Adams, when it seemed like everything went black. The bright lights of the town had vanished, but I very quickly realized that the road had narrowed considerably and had become winding instead of straight.

Suddenly, I was crossing a tiny bridge and realized that I was not where I should be at all -- and I had no explanation for it. One minute I was traveling on the main route which I have traveled all of my life and know it well; the next minute I was on a narrow country road with not a clue as to why I was there or how I got there.

This happened in the blink of an eye. I began talking to myself out loud, saying things like, "What the hell is going on, and where the hell am I?" I repeated these questions out loud over and over, with my heart pounding, and nothing making sense to me, but I kept driving because I was too frightened to do anything else.

When I got to the end of whatever lonely, narrow, winding road I was on, I looked up and saw a street sign. It said, "Gale Rd." and I now realized that I was going to come out almost back where I had started from, except that the road I was on would come out at the shortcut that I didn't take that night, because it was too late and too dark out. Now I had no choice.

I drove the shortcut route and ended up back in the center of Williamstown. I had to once again pass by Wiliams College, the Willows Motel, Subway, etc., then to North Adams. None of this makes sense to me but it did happen.

Also, when I reached my destination (my home in Adams, Mass.), it hadn't taken me any longer to get there than any other time. My husband said he would call me in a half hour. He knows that it takes 25 minutes to get home and I was home when he called.

It should have taken nearly double the amount of time to get home since it appears that I drove both routes home that night, one after the other. I don't know what happened to me that night.

All I know is that in the blink of an eye, I was approximately five miles back where I started from on a road that I know I never would have taken on a dark night. I will never drive alone at night again. It's only been a few days, and the thought sends shivers down my spine.

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A Thriftstore on the Edge of Forever

When I was about ten years old in 1966, my family temporarily stayed with my grandma in downtown Long Beach, California. Mom took us four kids to a HUGE Goodwill store about seven blocks from the beach. We kids were told the toys were upstairs, so that's where I went. Upstairs, there were huge windows, which of course don't open. You could look down on the street far below. I went over to one of the large windows.

However, when I got to there, it was no longer a window, it was a door that I could walk through (if I dared) when I would have fallen to my death if it weren't for this "paranormal opening." The street kind of looked like the street yet it was level, I could have walked straight out that window onto the sidewalk. The people out there looked normal, yet seemed to be dressed in odd, possibly old fashioned clothes and the cars were different then what I was accustomed to seeing.

I very much wanted to walk out there, but I was afraid I wouldn't be able to walk back in to where I was, so I didn't. I wonder now, if others have walked into these holes/openings and if so, are they stuck there, somewhere other than their own place or origin? My guess would be yes, because if they didn't come back soon, the hole would be gone.

If what I saw was another period/era (which I'm not certain of, I think it would have been the past.) I now wonder if others in the future (at a time when they will finally know how these things work) come here and go back, and/or are here but not from a time where they would know how to get back to their own time or dimension, whatever, so happen to be stuck here, and if they were a child like me would they tell someone?

If an adult, would they say they had amnesia so as not to be placed in a mental hospital? Anyhow, I buried the thoughts of that day, I mean really, who would've believed me?

Fast forward twenty some odd years. R___ (my older sister) came to visit, bringing N___ (her son, my nephew) and N___ brought a friend of his from their hometown Salinas, Calif. They came to spend a few days at our beach house in Laguna Beach.

We were up talking late into the night after all the others were fast asleep. We started sharing our life stories and such. After becoming comfortable I asked my sister,"Do you remember when we were staying with grandma downtown Long Beach?" The rest of the conversation went like this:

"Yes," my sister replied; she remembered the visit.

"Do you remember that giant two story Goodwill store mom used to take us to downtown," I asked.


"Well... you probably won't believe this, but when I went upstairs.... "

"I know what you're going to say!"


"You went to the window and saw nothing but a giant black hole outside of it!"

I replied, "Oh, my God! No, I saw the street at my own level and I think it was a different time, like a parallel dimension of the exact same spot/place, except at the higher level than it should have been because I was upstairs. I could have walked right out that window, and I contemplated it, but was afraid if I did I wouldn't be able to walk back in!"

When my sister R___ told me of her similar oddity about that day, I was dumbfounded! I knew what I had experienced but as a person grows up you try and tell yourself it wasn't true, maybe you were hallucinating, even though you KNOW what you experienced, just trying to make sense of it. It's put out of your mind, and life goes on.

I thought possibly R___ being a year and nine months older than me, might have stopped her from seeing "more" as I had, due to how our minds continue to conform to the realities that are the norm and our teachings from culture, parents, teachers and so on.

I posted this experience of mine on a forum; someone said that they had read that these cracks/holes or whatever they are, open and close. Therefore, I probably saw it when it was completely open, and R___ probably saw it when it was in the process of opening or closing.

It happened. I believe I will always ponder and read up on this subject and the subject matters that may relate to it.

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  • 3 months later...

Flight into he future

In 1935, Air Marshal Sir Victor Goddard of the British Royal Air Force had a harrowing experience in his Hawker Hart biplane. Goddard was a Wing Commander at the time and while on a flight from Edinburgh, Scotland to his home base in Andover, England, he decided to fly over an abandoned airfield at Drem, not far from Edinburgh. The useless airfield was overgrown with foliage, the hangars were falling apart and cows grazed where planes were once parked. Goddard then continued his flight to Andover, but encountered a bizarre storm. In the high winds of the storm's strange brown-yellow clouds, he lost control of his plane, which began to spiral toward the ground. Narrowly averting a crash, Goddard found that his plane was heading back toward Drem. As he approached the old airfield, the storm suddenly vanished and Goddard's plane was now flying in brilliant sunshine. This time, as he flew over the Drem airfield, it looked completely different. The hangars looked like new. There were four airplanes on the ground: three were familiar biplanes, but painted in an unfamiliar yellow; the fourth was a monoplane, which the RAF had none of in 1935. The mechanics were dressed in blue overalls, which Goddard thought odd since all RAF mechanics dressed in brown overalls. Strange, too, that none of the mechanics seemed to notice him fly over. Leaving the area, he again encountered the storm, but managed to make his way back to Andover. It wasn't until 1939 that that the RAF began to paint their planes yellow, enlisted a monoplane of the type that Goddard saw, and the mechanics uniforms were switched to blue. Had Goddard somehow flown four years into the future, then returned to his own time?

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Time traveller

I take pleasure in sharing with you the following occurrence because I personally interviewed one of the parties involved, and have repeatedly gone over the incident with him these past six years. L.C. (his real initials) has been my friend for fifteen years, but as we visited together one day about six years ago, he told me of this most amazing event in his life which haunts him to this day.
L.C. and a business associate, Charlie, (fictitious name) had just finished lunch in the small Southwest Louisiana town of Abbeville. Still discussing their work, they began their drive north along Highway 167 towards the Oil Center city of Lafayette about 15 miles away. The date was October 20, 1969, and the time was about 1:30 in the afternoon. It was one of those picture-perfect days in Fall--clear blue skies and a nippy 60 degrees, just right conditions for cruising along with the car windows rolled down.

The highway had been practically traffic-free until they spotted some distance ahead what appeared to be an old turtle-back-type auto traveling very slowly. As they closed the distance between their vehicle and this relic from the past, their discussion turned from their insurance work to the old car ahead of them. While the style of the auto indicated it to be decades old, it appeared to be in show room condition, which evoked words of admiration from both L.C. and Charlie. Because the car was traveling so slowly, the two men decided to pass it, but before doing so, slowed to better appreciate the beauty and mint condition of the vehicle. As they did so, L.C. noticed a very large bright orange license plate with the year "1940" clearly printed on it. This was most unusual and probably illegal unless provisions had been made for the antique car to be used in ceremonial parades.

As they passed the car slowly to its left, L.C., who was in the passenger's seat, noticed the driver of the car was a young woman dressed in what appeared to be 1940 vintage clothing. This was 1969 and a young woman wearing a hat complete with a long colored feather and a fur coat was, to say the least, a bit unusual. A small child stood on the seat next to her, possibly a little girl. The gender of the child was hard to determine as it too wore a heavy coat and cap. The windows of her car were rolled up, a fact which puzzled L.C. because, though the temperature was nippy, it was quite pleasant and a light sweater was sufficient to keep you comfortable. As they pulled up next to the car, their study turned to alarm as their attention was riveted to the animated expressions of fear and panic on the woman's face. Driving alongside of her at a near crawl (no traffic in either direction allowed this maneuvering) they could see her frantically looking back and forth as if lost or in need of help. She appeared on the verge of tears.

Being on the passenger's side, L.C. called out to her and asked if she needed help. To this she nodded "yes," all the while looking down (old cars sat a little higher than the low profiles of today's cars) with a very puzzled look at their vehicle. L.C. motioned to her to pull over and park on the side of the road. He had to repeat the request several times with hand signs and mouthing the words because her window was rolled up and it seemed she had difficulty hearing them. They saw her begin to pull over so they continued to pass her so as to safely pull over also in front of her. As they came to a halt on the shoulder of the road, L.C. and Charlie turned to look at the old car behind them. However, to their astonishment, there was no sign of the car. Remember, this was on an open highway with no side roads nearby, no place to hide a car. It and its occupants had simply vanished.

L.C. and Charlie looked back at the empty highway. As they sat in the car, spellbound and bewildered, it was obvious to them that a search would prove futile. Meanwhile, the driver of a vehicle that had been behind the old car pulled over behind them. He ran to L.C. and Charlie and frantically demanded an explanation as to what had become of the car ahead of him. His account was as follows. He was driving North on Highway 167 when he saw, some distance away, a new car passing up a very old car at a slow pace, so slow that they appeared to be nearly stopped. He saw the new car pull onto the shoulder and the old car started to do the same. Momentarily, it obstructed the new car and then suddenly disappeared. All that remained ahead of him was the new car on the shoulder of the highway. Desperate to associate logic to this incredible sight, he immediately assumed an accident had occurred. Indeed, an accident had not occurred, but something more haunting, perhaps as tragic, and certainly more mysterious had.

After discussing what each had seen from his perspective, the three men walked the area for an hour. The third man, who was from out of state, insisted on reporting the incident to the police. He felt that it was a "missing person" situation and that they had been witnesses. L.C. and Charlie refused to do so as they had no idea where the woman and child along with the car had gone. They were missing alright, but no police on this plane of existence had the power to find them. The third man finally decided that without their cooperation he could not report this on his own for fear his sanity would be questioned. He did exchange addresses and phone numbers with L.C. and Charlie. For years he kept in touch with them, calling just to talk about his incident and to confirm again that he had seen what he had.

High strangeness points to ponder over: what if--she was from the past, and went forward in time, and she is now an old lady still living today, and what if on that same day it had been her instead of L.C. and Charlie behind the "old car," that same now old lady would have met herself. What if--the Earth itself has a super mentality and it creates as a cosmic joke all these anomalies of life on its surface just for its amusement or some other esoteric reason. What if--and this is the final and most depressing of the "what ifs"--she had come from the past, popped into the future and did not return to her past. The newspapers of 1940 would puzzle over a disappeance of a mother and her child one cold October day, foul play suspected, the search continues--while she and the child continue traveling in and out of various time zones forever.

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Lost Time
by Michael D.

My assistant manager today spent 45 minutes portraying a paranormal experience that happened to him around a month ago (Jan 2004), which I shall now unfold. My assistant manager isn't the most serious of people, ever really. He constantly keeps lookout while members of the warehouse take it in turns to sit on a large compacted square of cardboard and ride it down a steep ramp. But the story he told me today was told in as much seriousness as he's ever told anything...

He was out mountainbiking with a friend around Amington, something which he'd done a few days previously and arrived home at around 1:00 a.m. after a flat tire. His friend didn't want this to happen again as he was in work at 6 the following day and had to be up by 4 in the morning. So he came round fairly early, around 6:30 and they both went out. Biking around five minutes from his house, he reached the Amington bridge and he had to get off; he couldn't cycle up the hill because he was fat, he said (and he is). But his friend is quite fit, and he too had to get off.

As they arrived over the bridge he said to his mate, "I've lost my gloves." Now these are motorbiking gloves, costing £80 for the pair, so understandably he didn't want to give them up without a fight, but he says he carried on riding with his friend anyway. He tells me he was so caught up by the fact he'd lost these gloves that he didn't think to look about himself for them. He carried on for another five minutes until he reached the co-op to get some cigarettes.

After coming out of the co-op, he said to his friend, "I've lost a glove," only having one on. This time they both searched the car park and retraced their steps to find the missing glove, but to no avail. He then retraced back to the Amington bridge where he first said he'd lost his gloves, but couldn't find them. They then both went back to the co-op and saw the glove - laying face up right in the middle of the car-park, in the floodlit area no-less. Impossible to miss for someone looking for it, he said. He thought not much of it really and carried on back home.

Arriving in his house, he saw the clock and it read 12:55 in the morning! He says he couldn't believe this. The first thing he did was go out of the house and look up the road to see if the chip shop was open, but it was in darkness, so it must have been after 11, he reasoned; still too long. The telly was showing crap, so it must have been late. His wife was in bed and all clocks read the same. He simply could not account for the time he had lost. His search, he said, must have taken no longer than half an hour, yet he arrived home around six hours after he left! At most the whole journey would have taken an hour, since he was not biking far at all. He could of, in fact, walked the bike ride in 10 minutes.

Two days later, his friend rang and siad he had experienced the same loss of time. What was odd, his friend said, was that my assistant manager, Jim, had thought about his lost glove before he lost it. On the bridge he had said, "I've lost my gloves," but was so distraught about it he didn't even think to check his hands. His friend said he saw the gloves on his hand, and thought he was just messing about and, quite frankly, didn't care. But then he actually did lose his gloves later. His explanation for this was that maybe he put one glove in his pocket to buy the cigarettes, then cycling off, it fell out.

The thing that struck him most is the journey back to the bridge, to the co-op, then back to the bridge again looking for the glove, saying it was almost as if something had forced him to do this, a higher power over him.

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Lost Time
by Douglas

This story takes place in Austintown, Ohio on Route 76 back in 1981. I was 20. Dad asked me if I wanted to look at a house that was for rent. The next morning we went to his mom's house at 5:00 for some coffee. She asked what we were doing out so early. Dad told her that we were meeting a realtor at at 6:00. At 5:30, we left getting to the house a couple minutes before 6.

As we pulled in the drive, we noticed the yard had not been cared for. The house was a rectangular two-story dwelling with front windows only on the second floor. As we got out of the van, it was a quiet, calm day except for two kids laughing in the back yard. We figured it was the neighbor kids from across the street. As we approached the back of the house, there was a swing set with two swings. They were swinging in opposite directions with nobody on them. There was laughter of a boy and a girl. Another quick glance and the swings were still. Dad asked if I had seen that. I had.

We proceeded back to the side of the house. We passed the garage. It had two wooden doors with small glass panes. We looked in the window. The garage had a dirt floor and was empty. We walked up to the side porch. The door was unlocked so we went inside.
Dad turned on the switch, but no lights came on. I tried a few with no luck. The inside of the house was weird. There was a large room with doorways branching off. The living room was like none I had ever seen. It was about 10x40 with no windows except for the small one in the door. I went back into where dad was. He was trying to open the basement door, which was locked. Dad asked if I was ready to go. Instead of leaving, he went into the living room and stared out the front door window for about three or four minutes. I was about to go upstairs when I got an eerie feeling. So, I stayed in the main area.

Dad then came out and asked if I was ready to go again. At that point, dad made the remark that we hadn't tried that door. We had. It was the locked basement door. He turned the knob and the door opened. The hair on the back of my kneck stood up. Now I was getting scared. Dad flipped the light switch and it came on. I was wondering why the other lights didn't come on earlier. Dad proceeded to go down the steps, but I was leary. I went down. The basement was small. There was an old wringer washer with a loaded revolver on the lid. It was like the silver and ivory-handled cap guns that kids use today. I picked it up four inches off the lid and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a light cord moving. The lights went out and the door slammed shut. It was so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. I felt aimlessly for my dad. Holding his shirt, we went up the stairs. At the top, he stopped and let out a blood-curdling scream. It made my blood run cold. I pushed him and he pushed the door open. All the lights were on and it was dark outside.

After jumping in the van, dad turned the headlights on. The garage doors were open. There was a lamb lying on the dirt floor with its throat slashed, jerking violently. Blood was running into the dirt.

When we arrived back at my grandmother's, it was 2:30 a.m. She asked where we had been all day. We had lost 21 hours in five minutes time in the basement. Later, we drove past the house and all the doors were shut and the lights were out. When I would ask dad about what he had seen, he would cuddle in the corner and shake like a kid crying. To this day, I don't know what he saw and I don't want to know. Since he has passed away, I will never know.

When I went back in 1987, to see if the house was still there, it was boarded up. There was a large FBI sign on the house stating that for your own safety, stay out. I'm going back in July, 2004 to see if the house is still there.

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Slip Back in Time
by Mr. Torrence

It all started back in 1999 when I was 19, I had an experience that I can't explain that freaks me out to this day.

My girlfriend and I went up to Poughkeepsie, New York on a trip to visit her sick uncle, a man nick-named Floyd due to his profession as a barber (Mayberry reference) although he also was an avid biker. He had lupus and about a thousand other ailments, it seemed.

He lived on a large tract of land that included nature trails that seemed to go back for miles on up into the woods. One morning after breakfast, Cindi (my ex now) and I decided after breakfast to head out to a location that she remembered going to when she was a kid visiting. She called it the big Indian rock, which she said looked like a profile of an Indian chief.

So at around 10:30 or 11:00 or so, we headed up there. It was a long way up into the woods, but Cindi, after getting some directions, seemed really confident, having not been there in years. But after a while, I was almost sure she was lost, but she saw something that she recognized and headed off into that direction. It was this large white rock with a fort into the side of it like a kids' fort or something. Her exact words were, "Oh my god, I remember this place..." and then began to tell me how she and her friends, a bunch of boys who lived nearby, had built this one afternoon and was totally surprised to see it after all this time.

This was at least 10 years later and this poorly constructed fort was still there, which I thought fascinating too at the time. The fort consisted of a low lean-to almost like a box made of rotted plywood scraps. It sat to the side of the huge white rock and had a bundle of dirty camping gear inside of it, sleeping bags and other dirty junk and leaves, cobwebs, etc. Cindi went up to the entrance of the low-to-the-ground fort and looked in at it as I jumped up on the top of the white rock to have a seat.

I looked over to where Cindi was and she had disappeared from view. At first I thought she maybe crawled inside, but on more careful observation, this wasn't the case at all. I turned to see whether perhaps she had gone around the other side of the huge rock and when I turned I saw two little freckle-faced boys, one taller than the other and staring at me. One wore a ball cap on backward and the other in a dirty flannel jacket. They just stared at me eerily and then suddenly It just seemed like time slipped and suddenly I was walking up a wooded path towards a clearing, and there was Cindi telling me to hurry up and come on.

I stepped into the clearing and there was a side of a big rock with, yes a profile of a face or something, really quite unimpressive, but I suppose it had sentimental value with her. I was still in a daze but I just snapped to and met up with her.

My first question to her was who were those two boys and no doubt she responded, "What are you talking about? What boys?" I said "At the rock..." she just punched me in the arm and began to point out the face in the rocks and then told me how she was a tom-boy and used to ride BMX bikes back there and other such memory lane kinds of stuff.

After a few minutes we headed back to Floyd's place and we were greeted by Cindi's mother who had just arrived. I met her mother and she seemed nice and hung out at Floyd's and had a few beers with him, even though he complained that it didn't mix well with his medication.

So after a while, Cindi came in and we all got to talking and the fort came up and she asked about some kids she knew in the area and if they were still around or whatever happened to, yada, yada kind of thing. Floyd got real dark when Cindi mentioned the "Moriarty" kids and went into a morose story and got rather quiet.

He said to Cindi, "The two boys and their mother were killed by their father before he took his own life." (Having something to do with a divorce.)

When I heard this, my hair on the nape of my neck stood up as my spine tingled as I was not going to spend another night out there at Floyd's place. He went on to comfort her, telling her that they were in a better place, etc. I couldn't dare recount what happened to me at the fort. I just wanted to split out of there; this was too freaky.

I made up a story after calling my roommate back in Bayonne, telling them that I had to get back there and asked Cindi if she wanted to stay but she decided to come with me. While driving back, Cindi kept the two boys as a topic and said that they both had a crush on her. And once even fought over her, and man, that just made me drive faster. We made record time back to Jersey.

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A Brief Leap in Time
by Sue

In Fall of 1994, my boyfriend and I were on our way home in Fallbrook, California. There are two roads into Fallbrook, from the north and from the south. We approached from the south heading north on Mission Rd., which is a four-mile, curvy two-lane road. It was a Friday evening and was 6:24 pm. I was driving, and had finally blurted out how weird it was that we hadn't passed any cars in the opposite direction since our turn onto Mission Rd.

Fallbrook is a small town, but this was a very well traveled road, even on Tuesday at 10:30 p.m. you'd be passing cars leaving town! Anyway, I knew it was 6:24 because I had just looked at the big amber display on the stereo when all of a sudden the car died, pedal went hard, lights went off, and I remember feeling confused, and thinking that we ran out of gas, yet knowing that we had plenty of fuel. We coasted off to a dirt turnout immediately ahead. Jim asked what happened and I had no answer, but I felt like I had just dozed off or had gone through Jello or... I don't know what.

I put it in gear, Jim jumped out, came around to my side and opened the door. I jumped into the passenger seat, he got in, cranked it over and – vroooom! – off we went. As we pulled away I felt irritated, a little nervous, but sure something really weird had just happened. Then I glanced at the clock on the stereo again, It was 6:36 p.m. 12 minutes had passed when, being generous, the whole incident couldn't have taken more than 1-1/2 minutes, max. So what's up with that?

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Missing Time While Hunting
by Tillie

This happened to my husband and son. (We are Alaskan Indians.) Two years ago in the fall of 2002, they went moose hunting about 20 miles down river by boat from Nenana. They had gotten their moose and were packing meat to the campsite before dark. They were almost upon the campsite and could see the tent.

That was the last thing they remembered.

When they came to, they were both two miles from the campsite without any knowledge of how they got there! Both were disoriented and it was dark. They stayed put because they did not want to get lost in the dark in the woods. My husband had a lighter on him, so he made a fire and he and my son huddled together for the rest of the night until daybreak.

As soon as it got light enough, they left everything and took the boat back to Nenana. We later retrieved their camping gear and the moose. To this day they don't know how they got two miles from the camp site.

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Time Slip to 1954
by Nick V.

Slightly over three years ago, a friend and I had a most unusual experience. It was late August in '97. My friend Larry and I got together in Cambridge, Mass. around noon to play some lunch-time tennis. We had never played in this particular part of town before, so we drove around looking for some courts. I drove up to a policeman who was directing traffic around a small construction site on a side street and asked him where the nearest courts were. He thought for a moment then gave us clear instructions to courts only about two blocks away. Following his instructions, I took a right into a driveway. Sure enough, right in front of us were the tennis courts. All three courts were occupied. It struck us both as odd that everyone was dressed in white. We both noticed a very attractive, young lady wearing a white tennis dress in the far right court as she was preparing to address the serve. Still looking at the courts, we decided to wait for one to come free. I pulled my car into a small parking lot directly on my right hand side. When we got out of the car everything we had been looking at was gone! The tennis courts were no longer there. A small field on the left was gone. Instead, there was a cement building that we did not see when we pulled in. It was as if we were somewhere else. Strangely, neither of us was particularly baffled at that moment. I felt very annoyed for some reason. We both agreed that what we had just observed was "too weird" and we went off to play tennis somewhere else. It was only while thinking about it later that we spoke about it. Afterward, I did some research into the area. Indeed, at one time there were tennis courts there - but they were torn down in 1954! Did we travel back in time? We have no doubt about what we experienced. I sometimes wonder: Did the tennis players also see us? I may never have an answer.

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Trip to Another Dimension
by James

I'm not sure I can convey to you what I went through several weeks ago, but I will try. I work a swing shift, so my hours are very odd. One morning at about 3 a.m. or so, I was lying in bed watching television, still an hour or so from my usual bedtime. I reached for the remote and, for lack of a better way to put it, fell asleep. The strange thing is, I was not yet sleepy and didn't drift off to sleep like I normally would. Actually, it would be better explained if I said I passed out.

The next thing I remember someone was shaking me awake as I slept in the lobby of a kind of trade school. I knew who I was, why I was there, and knew the person waking me up. I was apparently in this school taking a welders class. I had afternoon classes, but decided to leave early. Everything was fine until I walked outside and asked a friend what time it was. When she said 11:30, something about it just didn't seem right. As I realized I wasn't in the right place, I suddenly became very groggy and felt like I was going to pass out. I even thought, "This is just a dream," but it was much more than that. Everything was real. I could feel the gravel under my feet, feel the breeze against my body. At one point I smelled garbage. I then realized that the wind was blowing from the direction of a large dumpster. I don't think I can emphasis just how real it was other than to say think about how you feel right now. That's what this felt like. I could see, touch, smell. I was there, living what was my life, but not my life. I was extremely groggy, but kept fighting it. Actually, I was afraid to pass out, not really certain that I would wake up again.

I'll try to make the rest of this brief, but I'm not sure I can. If I told the entire story, it might go on for some time. In this "dream," my memory was a little like Swiss cheese. I knew some things about my life here, but not everything. It seemed that I knew everyday things, like why I was at the school and people I came in contact with everyday, but not things that would be general knowledge or things that a person wouldn't consciously think about day to day. I have a cousin that lives here, and in my "dream" he lived nearby the school. He was married, like he is in "real life," but they lived in an apartment instead of a house and also did not yet have a baby. He could immediately tell something was wrong by the look on my face. I tried to tell him what was happening and he was skeptical at first, but as I kept talking he started to believe me. With his help, and the help of a friend, we figured out some differences between my two worlds. Several people I know either did not exist or never moved to the area. At least neither of them knew who they were when I mentioned their names. I know that at least one of them did not exist at all. I brought up the name of two brothers we all know. They knew the oldest, but told me he was an only child. I have talked to the oldest of the brothers about this, and he has told me he remembered his parents argued for a long time about having another child. She wanted one, he didn't. They were both adamant about their position and he finally gave in.

There were several other small differences, and many things were much the same. The largest difference, however, was the town we lived in. In "real life" I live in a small town called Nocona. In my "dream," Nocona didn't even exist and we all lived in a town called Yancy. Another larger city to the East is Gainesville, which also didn't exist. From what I could tell, Yancy was approximately where Gainesville should have been. Many things in Yancy were like a combination of Nocona and Gainesville. For instance, the water tower was exactly like the one in Nocona with the high school mascots name on it. Of course, the one in my dream said Yancy instead of Nocona. I have done some research, and found that the only reason Nocona exists today is because some land owners allowed the railroad to be built running across their land. If they had said no, the railroad would have gone farther south. I also found a prominent lawyer and judge from the Gainesville area named Yancy Lewis. Apparently he was quite successful and popular during his time. All in all, this experience lasted about two hours. Unlike most dreams, it didn't jump around from one time to another. If I walked somewhere that took six minutes to get there, it took six minutes. Eventually, in the "dream," my cousin talked me into laying down, telling me I looked like walking death.

When I woke up, I was back in my world in my own bed. Oddly enough, it was 11:30 a.m. by my clock. For the first couple of hours, I was just in a kind of daze. I chuckle now because the first thing I did was get the local newspaper from the living room to make sure it said Nocona instead of Yancy. Again, I don't think I can explain just how real it all was other than to say I was there. I have talked to a couple of friends, including my cousin, and they have said they had experiences that were much the same, but didn't last nearly as long. They would only be in the "dream" for a couple of minutes before blacking out.

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Déjà Vu or Future Memory
by Tom C.

In the mid- 1990s, I began attending college in CSU Bakersfield, California to earn my BA. The campus was being remodeled the first quarter I was there, and so some of the buildings were closed. One of my classes took place in the music building. The rooms here were auditorium-style, but narrow, maybe 20 feet wide, and two and a half times as long. On the first day, I found an aisle seat at the back of the room, near the door. This was my usual mode of operation, allowing me to exit the class as soon as it was over. This would be my seat for the rest of the quarter. I can’t remember the title of the class, but it essentially dealt with modern literature and philosophy. We read books by authors like Thomas Pynchon, and watched movies like Blade Runner. Discussions were usually in the postmodernist vein.

The next quarter I had another class in the same classroom, and being a creature of habit, chose the exact same seat.

Now, those are the unassailable facts. Something strange occurred in the second quarter, and what I am about to relate is only what I remember happening after the fact, although I'll put it in chronological order for the sake of clarity.

The close of the first quarter was followed by a vacation of about two or three weeks. In that time I remember having a dream about being in class at Bakersfield, in the same room, sitting in the same seat as the literature class. I new instinctively, in that dream sense, that this was a different class being taught by a different instructor. The instructor was writing on the board: "Jim likes to do homework…" and I was writing the sentence down when I had a flash of déjà vu. It was so powerful I, froze, goosebumps erupting across every inch of my skin. My heart raced. I thought, "This is exactly like the dream!" Then I woke up.

I told my girlfriend (now my wife) about the dream, and repeated the partial sentence that had triggered my feeling of déjà vu. This wasn’t the first time I’d ever experienced anything like this, but it was the first time the details were so clear. Usually, I have dreams where I experience a sensation of déjà vu, but after the day rolls on, I forget precisely what happened in the dream. These dreams are significant in that they don’t "feel" like dreams. Conversely, I have déjà vu experiences when I’m awake, and usually think something along the same lines as in the classroom experience: "Wait I've dreamed this already!"

So, apart from the clarity and the details, this was nothing new to me. Par for the course, really. The weeks rolled by and school started again. I went back to the old building, sat in the old chair, the dream having long since faded from my memory. The new class was titled “Structure of the English Language.” It was a grammar course, one in which we diagrammed innumerable sentences from the textbooks and from the board. One of these sentences was: "Jim likes to do homework, that is why he goes to college."

Same thing happened; the incredibly powerful sense that I had done this before, the goosebumps, the racing heart, and thinking, "This is just like the dream!" But this time I had proof; I had told my girlfriend about it!

I couldn’t wait to get home that day. When I finally saw my girlfriend, I told what had happened and I said, "Do you remember when I told you about that dream? When I told you the fragment that had been written of the board?"

Nope. She didn’t.

So now I'll never know. Did I really have precognitive episode while I was dreaming? Did my mind fly forward in time, to occupy a future self during a completely routine and meaningless moment in my life? Or did I have a dream about that classroom during vacation that was coincidentally similar to a real event that happened later? Did my girlfriend not remember me telling her about the dream because she forgot, or because that was part of the dream too, or maybe because my mind, so shocked by the power of the "memory," fabricated my recollection of the whole dream?

I’m not sure, but I’ll tell you this: the next time I have a déjà-dream of a teacher writing on the blackboard, I’m sure as hell going to write down his words!

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Out of Time
by Gerald J.
Sept 2001

I was a maintenance mechanic working trying to unjam an electric elevator motor in the basement of an old sheet metal factory. I put a pipe wrench on the motor shaft and put a pole on the wrench to give me leverage. When I tried to turn the shaft, my left elbow accidentally touched a 500-volt power contactor. I was frozen and couldn't move. Finally, a neutral line fuse blew and I was let go. I sat down for about 20 minutes to make sure I was okay and went back to work. Two other mechanics and I attempted to repair a stovepipe elbow bending machine. We couldn't find out what was wrong with it. Then I said the next you know that hydraulic line might bust. As soon as I said it, the line busted and fluid went everywhere. They looked at me in disbelief. Next I went to work on a tube-cutting machine. I was looking at a small servo motor and it fell off. I blinked my eyes and looked again. The motor was still on its mount. But a couple of minutes later, the motor actually did fall off and I picked it up.

Then I started having dreams about future personal events that would occur right after I had the dream. It was like I was looking at a VCR tape over again when the events did actually occur. I went to my mother's house. As I was looking across the street, an old man came out of a garage, walked to the side of the house to a garden hose. The old man had gray hair peppered with black. When he got to the hose, he faded out. I didn't tell my mother what I saw. I asked her who stayed in the house before the present owners. She described the old man I saw and told me he died about a year after she moved on the street. Then I told her what I saw. She had described exactly what I saw. Next I was sitting in our sun room in the back of the house. I was alone. I blinked my eyes and our house was lit up and we had company. I blinked again... no was there but me. The next evening, relatives and friends dropped in and we had a sort of party. The house was lit up. All of the lights were on. These events kept occurring, but gradually faded as time went on. My conclusion: When I caught in grip of an electric current, I was thrown out of sync with the time flow. All matter and energy vibrates. I caused to be out of sync, like a ball in a steam it floats along then you grab it and hold it. The stream then flows around the ball. when the ball is let go it eventuality catches up to it former spot it the stream. This my theory of time travel and time flow discovered by accident.

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Time Warp on TV


by Anonymous


I still do not know what to make of what happened to me. Back in '96 or '97 - I cant remember the date - but one night I was watching the Discovery Channel and the program I was watching was interrupted by what I thought at the time to be a different program. Except they were talking about stuff that did not happen yet. What confused me the most was that it was a news show much like CNN, they would tell us the subject then show pictures of that subject like on CNN. The subject that mainly was being discussed by important people in suits around a table, like a boardroom meeting was whether all the countries should trade, as in exports and imports, with the beings from other planets because the beings were putting pressure on us to cooperate with them, then they would try to be civil with us. The discussions went on and on. Apparently, the people, as in the real working people were not at all happy with the situation, they were uncomfortable with the beings that had so much power and technology over us. I also learned while watching was that some countries were already trading with them. The meeting was basically to unite the Earth countries, much like NATO, on one national agreement to this issue. There were other things being discussed, but I was to confused about what I just heard that I cannot remember.



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Missing Time


by Harriet M.


Dec 2002


This morning, I was sitting up in bed, reading, and distinctly remember glancing at the clock and noting that it was almost midnight. I turned back to the book and glanced up again, thinking that no more than five or 10 minutes had passed. I felt somewhat freaked to discover that it was 3:03 a.m.! I was still sitting straight up in bed, the book open on my lap, the light on, in exactly the same position I had been in in what I thought had been five minutes ago, but was really almost three hours ago. I had no recollection of feeling the slightest bit tired, or having my eyelids feel heavy as I went to sleep, nor did I remember dreaming (and I ALWAYS remember every dream I have, if not vividly), or going through the process of waking up. I have had this feeling over ten times since fourth grade, and can recall specific instances where I would be playing with stuffed animals, clutching one in a specific position in one hand while sitting up in bed, and would glance at the clock at, maybe, 10:30. I would look again to find it almost 4:00, and I would be in the exact same position, holding the same toy, that I had been at 10:30 without ever falling asleep. For at least half of these experiences, I would not have to look at the clock to know that it had happened because I would hear a really high-pitched buzzing sound in both of my ears and would feel the way you feel when there is a sudden air pressure change, such as if you were taking off in a plane and went from the ground to a great height in one second, or the other way around.


The most recent time this happened, I also noticed other things that were odd, or "off" somehow (it's pretty hard to describe accurately). My vision was not exactly distorted, but things seemed as if I had my face pressed up against a television screen (you know how if you look too closely at one, the image looks weird and you can sort of see the little dots of color). However, I could not seem to keep my gaze focused on one thing because, although I was looking at everything normally, it felt in my head as if I were cross-eyed and couldn't stare at anything too long without it hurting between and behind my eyes. I kept thinking that the shadows were moving (but I am now almost positive that this part, at least, was just my imagination). Although I had left my window wide open and it was less than forty degrees outside, I felt so hot that my skin tingled all over. I also noticed that the light from my lamp made an almost completely random reflection on the ceiling, which vaguely resembled a crescent shape, but not really. However, I could also see this reflected on the blank screen of my TV set and there it was a perfect crescent with really, really sharp and defined edges. I could also see absolutely nothing else reflected on the screen, although I should really have been able to see the reflections of anything near my lamp, including my bed with me in it. I managed to get out of bed because I felt like I needed some water and headed into the bathroom. For no good reason, I felt really apprehensive and tense as I walked through the door, like I expected someone to spring out at me from behind the wall. I have this feeling every time I go into that room, no matter what time of day or night, whether I am home alone or someone is right in my room nearby. I never have this feeling anywhere else in my house.



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Time Slips


by Derek E.


My dad was a taxi driver in Glasgow, Scotland, when I was a kid. Taxi drivers always have stories about famous people they had in the cab or crazy hires they got or great ones they just missed - and he had the lot of them. He also had one that was a bit more unusual. One day in, I suppose, the late 1960s, he was driving in the north of the city along Maryhill Road near Queen's Cross, one of the older parts of town and once its own separate community outside the city. One minute it was "now" - cars, buses, modern clothes, tarmac roads etc. - and the next he was in some earlier time. It was certainly pre-Victorian given the clothes he described people wearing, horses, rough road, lower buildings, people in rough clothes and bonnets etc. It lasted as long as it took him to be aware of it and then it vanished and he was back in "now."


The only thing I can think of that happened to me that was in any way similar was about 20 years ago, when my then wife and I were on a driving holiday in the North York Moors in England - you'd know it as American Werewolf in London country. We went to a tiny coastal village called Staithes, which had a steep winding and narrowing road down to the harbour, with the entrance to the houses and narrow footway at a higher level, say three or four feet. We parked at the top of the village - hamlet really - where the tourist buses and cars had to stop and made our way down on foot. What I remember is a brilliantly sunny day with lots of other people around, but as we made our way down, it just suddenly seemed as if no one else were there but my wife and me. An old woman appeared on the footway opposite us. It became cooler and duller. She asked, in what seemed to me an old-fashioned and very polite way (but may just have been the local accent and dialect), what year it was. Now lots of old people get confused and it could have been that, but what I remember vividly is her black clothes - handmade, rough and with hand-sewn buttons - really big compared with modern ones. Her shoes were very old fashioned with much higher and chunkier heels than you'd see an older person wearing nowadays. In the time it took me to turn to my wife and say, "Did you see that?" she was gone. The sun was back and so were all the people. She had, however, seen the same old woman and felt the same chill.



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The Spinning Vortex


by Wendy


Dec 2002


When I was about 11 years old, I had come home from school and a friend of mine came over from across the street to hang out with me. We both decided to take a walk into the woods that were on the next street over. It is a place that we frequented. And we never before encountered what we did on this day.


We left the house at 2:30 and headed to the woods. As we got half way into them, we saw what appeared to be a spinning vortex. We were both standing just outside of this looking in. The trees where bending to the right as if in a swirling movement. We just froze where we stood in disbelief. In the center of this swirl was an unfamiliar landscape. It was as if there were no trees on the other side. Within in we could see a cinderblock garage, but there was no life or movement at all. Going farther in front of the garage, it was like a cliff - as if someone had used a bucketloader to create this landscape up above on top of the cliff where a row of houses - all exactly the same the same style, same color, the same distance apart from each other. There were telephone poles in a perfect line starting from the cliff. There where no trees around in that landscape at all. The road also started from the edge of the cliff.


The feeling I had at that time was fear. I felt that if we had walked into that vortex we would never be able to return. What I feel is that it was a doorway to another place and another time. We both ran back to my house breathless. We went in and told my mother what had happened. She thought we were crazy. I then asked my father if he had ever seen anything like that, and he told us no. When we looked at the time when we got back home, it was 4:30. Where did the time go? We didn't know. This occurrence has haunted me all of my life. I have never been able to get it out of my mind. Did I see a portal to another world?



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In 1932, German newspaper reporter J. Bernard Hutton and his colleague, photographer Joachim Brandt, were assigned to do a story on the Hamburg-Altona shipyards. After being given a tour by a shipyard executive, the two newspapermen were leaving when they heard the drone of overhead aircraft. They at first thought is was a practice drill, but that notion was quickly dispelled when bombs began exploding all around and the roar of anti-aircraft gunfire filled the air. The sky quickly darkened and they were in the middle of a full-blown air raid. They quickly got in their car and drove away from the shipyard back toward Hamburg. As they left the area, however, the sky seemed to brighten and they again found themselves in the light of a calm, ordinary late afternoon. They looked back at the shipyards, and there was no destruction, no bomb-induced inferno they had just left, no aircraft in the sky. The photos Brandt had taken during the attack showed nothing unusual. It wasn't until 1943 that the British Royal Air Force attacked and destroyed the shipyard - just as Hutton and Brandt had experienced it 11 years earlier.



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