They say time is relative. Are space, dimension, and reality relative as well? From suddenly stepping into a time long past, to losing hours of unaccounted time, to changing locations in the blink of an eye and returning to places that no longer exist, these 15 creepy accounts of time slips, lost time, and shifting realities may have you questioning the corporeality of our present existence:
Falling Asleep in the Family Tent, Waking Alone in the Woods
This happened to me when I was little. I went camping with my older brother and my mom. I was about 7 or 8, and I went to bed around 10pm in a sleeping bag inside my tent with both my mom and brother. Some time during the night, I don’t know when, I woke up somewhere in the middle of the woods still in my sleeping bag. I had no idea where I was or where my tent was. I screamed for my mom and I heard her calling back for me in panic, but she was easily 100 yards away or so. To this day, I have no idea how I ended up in the middle of the woods still inside my sleeping bag. Gives me the chills…
Runner Spends Days Lost Texas
I used to live in Texas and, being a runner, would often seek out wooded paths to run. One summer day–Friday, I believe–I went for a run in the evening (6pm) through a local park with a paved path through the woods. Everything started fine. The winds were picking up and a storm was approaching, but I thought I could finish the run before the rains hit. And then… I wake up and it’s the middle of the night and I’m stumbling around off trail, in the woods.
I spend what felt like forever crawling around because I was so tired and dizzy, trying to find something to drink to slake my thirst. Not finding anything, I vaguely recall eating snails and insects to try to get some moisture. I eventually find my way back to the path, where a guy comes by and calls for help. I actually was missing for two nights and ended up with extreme dehydration. Doctors don’t think I would have made it another day. It turns out I was no more than a half mile from the path, but was too disoriented to figure that out. And the cover was too thick for the search parties to find me. I don’t remember much of anything that happened after I started my run. And no one has any idea as to what happened.
Two Women Experience Two Simultaneous Realities
This lady and her stepdaughter were crossing a busy street with many lanes, and as they entered the final lane before reaching the other side, they realized they were going to be struck by a car. But instead of the car hitting them, they both wound up automatically on the other side of the road.
Then they appeared to have “hallucinated”, seeing themselves as though the vehicle had struck them. She can even describe the interior of the ambulance that she was transported in, and apparently later died in, even though she has never been in an ambulance before.
Both experienced this. She says she wakes up every day unsure if she’s living in a dream.
As I heard this story 15 years ago, it will not be 100 percent accurate. And it apparently happened another 20 years before I first heard it.
I’m usually a little skeptical but this has come from someone who is not an attention-seeker…
A New Arrest is Old News
This one hit a little closer to home. And I'm still questioning my sanity/memory. This evening my friend K. texted me that a former student of mine had been arrested for a certain misdemeanor. It was a real surprise to both of us, who'd have never expected such a thing from this particular student. We texted back and forth a few minutes, and this was while I was in Austin with my husband. We had just finished up at one place and were heading to another when K. and I were texting. I said nothing to my husband until a few hours later at a friend's house when the general subject of crime came up. I turned to, my husband and said, "Oh, yeah, one of my [identifier] students --" before I could finish, he said, "I know; he [insert specific crime]."
"How did you know?" I asked.
"You told me," he said.
I tried to explain I had only just learned about this, even showing him K's text. He insisted that not only had I told him last week, but the two of us had even gone online to see if it had made the news yet. He even knew that it had happened in the very location that it had happened -- a detail he couldn't have guessed at. He said we did this search from his office in his study.
We haven't found any trace of our alleged online search on any of our computers. I have no idea where this memory of his comes from. I only know that if I HAD known about the incident, I'd have told K. before going home and telling my husband. The fact that she was the one that told me proves to me I didn't know until then. Furthermore, I wouldn't have known about the incident UNTIL it made the news.
Stationery Moment in Time -
Man Buys Envelopes from Victorian-Era Shop Clerk
-From "The Directory of Possibilities," edited by Colin Wilson and John Grant, published 1981 by Webb & Bower
In "The Mask of Time," Joan Forman has described many timeslips. Perhaps the oddest concerns a Mr. Squirrel, who in 1973 went into a stationer's shop in Great Yarmouth to buy some envelopes. He was served by a woman in Edwardian dress and bought three dozen envelopes for a shilling. He noticed that the building was extremely silent -- there was no traffic noise. On visiting the shop three weeks later, he found it completely changed and modernized; the assistant, an elderly lady, denied that there had been any other assistant in the shop the previous week.
The envelopes disintegrated very quickly. Forman heard of the case and interviewed Squirrel; he was able to produce for her one of the remaining envelopes. Forman wrote to the manufacturers, who said that such envelopes had ceased to be manufactured 15 years before.
Man Finds Out That Acquaintance Died… Twice
Here goes, truly the strangest experience I ever had. A little background, I had recently moved in with some friends after losing a very well paying job. I was working as an asst. manager at a little country seafood restaurant at the time of this event and I spent a lot of time walking and meditating. And I mean sometimes 5-6 hours a day walking, through woods and around the rural areas on the outskirts of my home town.
I will give you the sequence of events as I experienced them. I kept a journal at the time.. I get to work, Wednesday evening and begin getting everything ready to open. Right before opening, an officer anon comes to the door and rings the bell, restaurant is set up in an old colonial style house, I let him in, and set him up and made small talk. I asked where his partner was, they usually come in together.
He tells me officer anon 2 passed away the night before, stroke in his driveway. As a teen, I had some interesting encounters with this officer. Me, black trans am, pot and rock and roll and him-hard nosed county sheriff. So, it affected me enough to write about it in my journal and tell the owner of the restaurant about it.
Thursday passes with no incident.
Friday, I turn the corner entering the front room at the restaurant and low and behold, officers anon 1 and 2 are sitting there waiting to be set up. I look like I'm seeing a ghost!!! Officer anon 2 ask if I'm ok, and I say I heard you were dead!! He says well no one told me, and laughs it off. Now I'm thinking his friend must have played a sick joke on me, so I go back and confront officer anon 1 and he denies ever saying anything. I ask my boss if he remembered me telling him about it, he says no.
I go home and check my journal, there it is in Wednesdays journal entry. Ok, I'm a little freaked out.
Saturday evening, at work, officer anon 1 comes in alone, i ask where's your partner? He proceeds to tell me officer anon 2 passed away friday night after leaving the restaurant, stroke, in his car, in his driveway. Has no recollection of me confronting him. Boss has no recollection of anything weird.
Monday, check the obit. He died friday evening. Had to hold my journal next to the paper just to really get a grasp on what happened!!
Baby Monitor Time Warp
As usual, the long work day was coming to an end and I was dutifully putting the last load of laundered clothes away in our bedroom when I heard a ruckus on the baby monitor just a few feet away from me. I thought it strange when I knew my husband and toddler were both in the living room quietly watching TV as my two-year-old drifted silently off to sleep curled in my husband's lap as he caught the evening news.
The bedroom door was straight in front of me and I could see all the way down the hall to my husband and son in the Lazyboy chair as this ruckus over the monitor continued.
It didn't take long for me to realize the sounds were very familiar. Earlier in the day, I was in my toddler's bedroom putting a load of folded clothes into the drawers and picked up some stray toys and books that weren't being played with at the time. As I was doing so, I was telling my son about the story of "Jack and The Beanstalk" for the first time.
Now I stood in disbelief as I heard the drawers being pulled open and shut and rustling of the toys and books being put into their proper places. But I nearly fainted when I heard my son's voice over the monitor! I kept looking back and forth at my husband and now-sleeping son in the chair in the living room and the monitor sitting on my dresser that was literally replaying the specific events from earlier in the day!
The monitor is a standard baby monitor bought from Wal-mart and is NOT a recorder, but instead monitors the sounds coming from the room as they are happening at present time only.
I listened as my voice retold the story of "Jack and The Beanstalk" and listened with familiarity as my son responded in baby-talk to the tail he had never heard before. The incredible part was this all happened five hours earlier on the same day!
I quickly called my husband into the room as he listened to the last part of the story with my voice coming through the monitor and our sons coos and chuckles. He stood stunned and turned his head and looked at our sleeping son flopped peacefully over his shoulder. In disbelief, he asked, "How in the hell...?!" as his voice drifted off trying not to miss a thing. I just stared at him in the same disbelief and we both just shook our heads.
This has never happened before or since and became pretty clear from the beginning that we were listening to some kind of warp in time. I never imagined in a million years that I would be witness to it and must admit, if it should happen to you, it is indeed, one of the most incredible moments one can ever experience!
Returning to the House That Wasn’t There
I swear this is a true story. My husband was carting wheat in the summer of 1994. He was outside Molong in NSW, Australia, and drove past a "For Sale" sign on a farm gate along with the agents details. Our 12-year-old son was with him. On the return journey, they stopped, climbed through the fence and walked up the circle-shaped drive to have a closer look at the old house. He said he could see through the window and found the old house old and abandoned.
On his return home a few days later, we rang up the agent and asked for further details about the property, as we were interested in purchasing it. The agent had no idea what we were talking about and insisted that he had no properties for sale on that road. A week later, my husband and I drove to Molong to have a look at the farm ourselves. We drove up and down the whole road until we were almost to the next town. All that he could recognize was a water tank on the hill, a creek and some trees where the house used to be. There was no gate, drive, real estate sign... or house.
Children of London Time Slip
I live in London and it was late October, 1969, and I was walking home late one Saturday night. I had to walk through an underpass, which was under the busy North Circular Road. It was cold and late and I was surprised to see about five kids down there collecting pennies for the Guy, being as firework night, 5th November, was soon. These kids should not have been out that late, seeing as the oldest was a girl aged about 12 years old and the others younger.
What shocked me were their clothes. Their attire made me think they had come straight out of 1920s or 1930s London. Their speech could have been taken straight from a Charles Dickens' novel. I heard one young boy say, "That other gent gave me a florin." At his age there is no way he could have known what a florin was, an old English coin for the then two shillings.
This was the late 1960s and kids certainly didn't use words like "gent" anymore. "Geezer" or "bloke" perhaps.
The girl approached me saying, "Evening sir, penny for the Guy, please, sir?" Her politeness shocked me, but I said I hadn't any money. She slid her arm through mine and she ran her hand down my sleeve saying, "Yes you do, sir. You are a fine gent. You do have money." I assured her I hadn't and I expected a rude mouthful, but she replied, "Ok, thank you, sir. You have a good evening, sir."
I knew I had to give these kids something, so I pulled a silver sixpence from my pocket and called her. I threw her the coin and she gave me a thank you and a beaming smile. I walked off into the night.
This experience bugged me bad. Who were those kids from the past? I asked local people if any kids were killed there during WW2, but nobody remembered. Did I meet ghosts? Kids from the past? I guess I will never know.
Lost Time At a Creepy Home in Ohio
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.
Spatial Shift in the Blink of an Eye
This happened in 1986 in New York on the road between White Plains and the Throgs Neck Bridge. I was travelling the road one afternoon on my way home from White Plains to Bayside, Queens. The journey required me to travel the Hutchinson River Parkway, pay a 25-cent toll, and cross the Throgs Neck Bridge.
The road before the entrance to the Hutchinson River Parkway was confusing. It was easy to miss the exit. I remember nervously looking at the 25 cents on the tray of my Volvo, wishing the toll would come sooner than it did so I could be on my way.
That is when I missed the exit. I travelled about half a mile beyond it, and then in a panic, I decided to back up on the highway and see if I could get the exit after all. I backed up with oncoming traffic behind me, swerving the car to the shoulder to make the exit amid beeping and skidding, but I attained the exit with no damage.
Just as I reached the Hutchinson River Parkway and got on it, I heard the siren. It was a highway patrol car coming after me. I figured he witnessed my crazy driving move.
As I pulled over, I looked in the rear view mirror. The policeman that was getting out of the patrol car was the scariest one I had ever seen. Never mind the boots and the hat and the sunglasses, he just looked completely mean. I looked down at my lap and said out loud, "Dear God, I'd rather be anywhere but here."
I went into my pocketbook to get my license, and when I looked up, my car and I were sitting on the side of the entrance to the Throgs Neck Bridge -- well beyond the Hutchinson River Parkway, which I hadn't driven yet. The 25 cent toll was still on the tray in my car.
I had this funny feeling that I was frozen and I did feel stiff, so I flexed my wrists, rubbed my eyes and looked again. I was still on the entrance to the bridge -- a good 20 miles beyond the Hutchinson River Parkway. In order for this to happen, my car and I would have had to have been lifted in the air and placed back down 20 miles up the road.
After sitting for about 20 minutes in shock, I put the car in gear and drove over the bridge. Just beyond the bridge was my neighborhood. I always wondered what the cop saw. Did he see me vanish? Did it just "un-happen" for him? I will never know.
This happened 2 years ago, but I'm just putting it all on paper now. I'll try to keep this a brief as possible.
In 2013 I was a senior at NYU in New York City. I was born in New York, but moved to Florida around 4 years old after my father died in a train wreck. He was also born in New York, lived there his whole life, and became a successful doctor with a practice in the Empire State Building. New York always felt like 'my town', in part because it was his town. He loved this place, and so would I.
In November, I was walking around the campus near Washington Square Park. I'm walking with my girlfriend when I see a man from behind. There was a familiarity about him, and my interest was peaked.
I sometimes day dreamed about what it would be like if my father weren't actually dead, and were still somehow alive. And how it would be to see him again.
I was curious to see just how familiar this man looked, so I caught up to him and threw a glance behind me.
He was a dead ringer for my dad.
5'7'', handsome, bright-eyed. His clothing was a bit dated, but I didn't think anything of it at the time.
I slowed down and he caught me looking. He was staring straight into my eyes. It was my dad.
I didn't know what to say. Dad? David? Mr. Greenwald? Name. Good place to start. I asked him for his.
"David. Can I help you?"
Now I'm starting to freak out. I'm looking directly at his face, studying it. Was my memory playing tricks on me? Was I losing my mind? I looked at my girlfriend wild-eyed, and could see she was starting to catch on. She knew what my dad looked like from photos, plus the PBS documentary about him I made her watch. Her neck was sticking out at a weird angle.
I threw a barrage of questions in his direction. What do you do...Where are you from...What year is it...
Now I'm shaking. I start yelling at my girlfriend. Get your phone out! Record this! Get Photos! I wanted proof. I wanted something else to show me this was real.
"I have to go."
He starts to walk away. I felt the moment slipping away.
"Dad! Do NOT ride the train. DO NOT RIDE THE TRAIN."
I didn't know what else to say. I turn to grab the phone out of my girlfriend's hand and when I turn back he's gone. Vanished. Like he wasn't there at all.
I asked my girlfriend what happened to him, but she was looking away too.
I ran to the corner and looked around like a crazed mad-man. Nothing.
After this incident, I was sick for days. I couldn't focus on anything. I didn't know what to do, who to tell, what to think.
Then I remembered his diary which I keep. I've never read it, out of respect for his privacy, but it was his and so I take care of it.
You can guess what happened next. I went to 1985, November, and started reading entries. His handwriting was hard to read - he was a doctor after all - but I did my best and I found it.
"Walking to Elsa's when [illegible] the street in strange clothes stops me [illegible] questions [illegible] Told me not to ride the train. Pleaded, really. Scared me half to death [illegible] disappearing. Note to self: Consider carrying mace for future crazies.
What am I supposed to think about that? What am I supposed to think about anything? I heard once that time is like a fabric, something that can fold on itself. A piece of 'cloth' rubs up against another piece and there's a bridge.
I stood on that bridge and looked into 1985.
People ask me why I walk home from work every day. All 30 blocks. Now you know why. If the fabric folds again I want to be there.
A number of years ago, I moved to a small town in northeast Missouri. I was moving in with my stepmom and dad. My stepmom, Jolela, had had a couple of strokes and was now legally blind. She was refusing to move into a nursing home, and my dad was a truck driver at the time. I was also going through a divorce, so I needed a change of scenery. I had only been to the house sporadically prior to moving in with them, so I had never had any of the experiences I had after having moved in. At first, it was simple little stuff, noises, such as if someone was walking around upstairs, although it was only a one-story house. Or cooking smells, such as a roast, or fried chicken, even though it would only be like 11 am, and I had not done much more than a simple breakfast that day. Also, I was the only one smelling them!
But I do believe my scariest moment was the vision I had while gardening one morning. I was on my hands and knees in the garden doing some weeding when suddenly, the quiet morning was exploding with noise, I looked up, and all around me were bodies, people yelling for a doctor, or their mother, people were just everywhere. About two miles down the road was a complete battle, I felt as if I was in the middle of the civil war, and it was in my front yard! I looked down, and as I did, it went silent again, I looked up, and I was back in my time. My house was there, my neighbors, my garden, and the blessed silence. I knew that I had fallen through a time slip. I was shaking badly, although the vision only lasted mere seconds, I will never forget the sounds and smells. Oh God, the smell, blood and rotting flesh, I hope you never smell that, it’s the worst. That night, the dreams, well really nightmares, began.
When my dad was home that weekend, I asked him about the house’s history. He said that the house had been built in 1918, when it faced the other way, at the time, 2nd Street didn’t exist yet. Although today our front door faces 2nd Street, our driveway is off Beech Street. Our backdoor is on the south side of the house, but the driveway is on the north side. He said that the house at the time, the kitchen was more of a sitting room, with a doorway where the bathroom is now. During the fifties, there was a fire, and quite a bit of the south side of the house was lost, instead of rebuilding, they just remodeled into a smaller house.
He also mentioned that prior to the house, there was a hospital, before the property was split into lots.
“A hospital?” I asked “Yeah, it was begun during the Civil War. One of the battles was fought about two or three miles south of here, down towards Mexico Road.” I think I swallowed my own tongue about this time. “Yeah, they built a hospital and POW Camp here during the Civil War. It ran from 4th street (2 blocks east of us) to 1st Street (1 block west of us and now the main drag), and from Morris Street to Beech Street. At the time, it wasn’t split into all these lots and streets. 1st Street was Water Street, and Morris Street was the main drag that ran from Mexico Road to Hannibal Road. I believe the hospital was torn down in about 1910 or somewhere there, but I don’t know why, I know that a Dr. Mulder had a hospital over on the west side of town by then, so he may have just simply moved it over there. Why do you want to know about the house?” “Oh, you know me,” I said offhandedly, “like you, I love history, and was wondering about the house.” Our property was a Civil War hospital. OH MY GOD. I had been having dreams ever since the vision. One dream that I had, well it was the night before my dad told me about the history, and now it makes so much more sense. In that dream, I had been in battle, I was shooting a gun, and then suddenly, a man’s voice was yelling halt. He told us to stand down, and then we were being gathered together, and hand over our weapons to another group of people. I had tears coming down my face, I knew that we were giving up. We had to walk for about ten miles, then we came to an area that had two or three clapboard houses, and there was a field that was filled with tents. I was guided to a tent, my buddy and I were sent in. There were only a few blankets and some rations in there. We both ate the rations, as that had been the only thing we had eaten for two days. Then we later regretted having eaten it all, as it was going to be another day before we got any more food. I remember one scene a bugle had blown, and we had to stand outside our tent and be inspected. After that, the dream goes hazy, and then I woke up.
That night, I had another dream. I was just me this time, I was walking through the battlefield, I was invisible. I could even walk through people. About the spot where my house today is, was a three-story clapboard house. I looked around, there were many tents as far as the eye could see, near me was a young boy, he could not have been more than 16 or 17. His arm was in a sling, he was laying on a blanket, and he was crying. I walked closer to him, and he looked up at me.
“I can see you, I’m not supposed to, but I can,” he said. “I am going to die here, my name is Samuel Bennett, I am from Ohio. My father’s name is Martin, my mother’s name is Phoebe. Please find them, and tell my family that I did not die in vain.” He then turned his head away from me. I continued to walk, no one else saw me. I walked through the hospital and investigated as much of the hospital as I could. Again, I reiterate, please, I hope you never smell the smell of rotting flesh. About the area where my garden is today, I saw two men digging what I thought was graves, but when I investigated closer, I realized they had dug a hole about 12 feet down, and 12 feet wide. They were throwing rotting limbs into it. Cut off legs, arms, feet, hands. That is where the rotting smell comes from, my garden, I swore from that day forward, I would move the garden.
Hi, this is the first time I have written in with anything but I specifically joined up to see if there was anything on here relating to my experience, there wasn’t so I’d love to hear what others say on this. I am still quite freaked out by this so I’ll do my best to set the scene a little bit.
I recently left my job and have been unemployed for about a month. I went to an interview on Thursday last week for a job I really wanted, and they rang back on Friday morning to offer me the job. I was so happy and decided to go to the Tesco to get some nice food to celebrate.
So anyway I walked out of the shop and set off walking home but I noticed someone staring at me out of the corner of my eye about 10m in front of me. I looked over and there was indeed someone staring back. The guy was identical to me, in every way, even down to the slightly pronounced underbite which is quite recognisable. And he looked terrified as he looked at me. As I met his eyes I immediately started feeling extremely nauseous and my hearing a thumping in my ears like I was about to pass out or something. I remember not being able to hear anything during this point as well apart from the thumping.
So then, the guy turns away and walks into a side street and out of sight. The weird thing was that as soon as he broke the gaze I felt better straight away, like someone that was sitting on my chest just got off. So I carried on walking in that direction towards that side street and looked up it and the guy was sprinting – full on hell for leather sprinting – down the street away from the corner in which I saw him. The guy was dressed in a nice suit with an open collar black shirt and it was weird to see him running in that gear.
I spoke to friends as soon as I got back and they told me that the area of Liverpool centre where I saw the person has been known to have something called time-slips which can be explained with this video - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4782MavWl4. But this wasn’t the same as the other experiences described in that video, this guy was the same age approx. in the same style suit that would be worn today.
Shoplifter in Liverpool Escapes Into a Different Decade
The year is 2006 and Sean a 19 year old drug is caught shoplifting and is being persecuted by the security guard down Hanover street in the city´s center. Sean turn into a street and soon discovers it´s a dead end. He is now out of breath and expects the security guard to turn into the street and get him any moment, but he keeps running hoping he will find a way to escape. Sean starts to feel a strange pain on his nape; he feels the ambiance around him has changed and realizes that there is no security guard after him anymore. “Probably he gave up running after me” thought Sean.
Sean gets back on Hanover street but everything looks different. The pavement, colors and overall lighting is different and all cars are from the 1960´s. The roadworks he had seen a few minutes before had disappeared. People are all dressed in a more formal and old-fashioned way and stare at him. Sean gets to Bold street and notices traffic lights in places where they should not be and bushes and a small park he had never seen before next to the Lyceum building. He also notices a bar he knows but although the name is the same the signpost is different.
He keeps walking without a plan of action in a very confused state and eventually starts entering into panic. The only way he can explain all this is that he has a experienced a timeslip into the past. He has already been in the past for some minutes, and worries that he will be stuck there and never return. The thought of his friends and loved ones reminds him of his mobile phone. He gets his mobile out but he has no signal.
When he passes in front of a newspaper kiosk on Ranelagh street next to the central station he goes and has a look at the date on the newspaper. It was Thursday the 18th of May of 1967. He had gone back 39 years.He continues his walk and finds himself on Bold street. When outside a jewelry store (H. Samuel), he enters; the store´s interior is back to the present time; he picks his mobile and this time is relieved to see that he has coverage. Looking outside of the store windows everything is still in the past. When Sean gets out of the store everything suddenly returns back to the present time. Relieved, he only wants to go home and hurries to the bus stop.
The journalist discovered that the descriptions given by Sean are accurate and correspond to how Liverpool looked in the sixties. When investigating further it was discovered that the security guard chasing Sean declared to the police that the young man just vanished in thin air.
To hear more accounts of time slips, lost time, and shifting realities, check out the following episodes of The Confessionals, available at www.theconfessionalspodcast.com, iTunes, or most podcast players: Episode 51 - Entering the Matrix of Lost Time, Episode 64 - The Disappearing Church of the Woods, Episode 78 - Abducted with Lost Time, and Episode 122 - Secret Military Enochian Technology.
Which of these strange stories creeps you out the most? Share with us in the comments!