10.59 am : An Unsettling Experience

I must, if I am honest, say I am struggling with this. I don’t really know why I am putting this to paper, metaphorically speaking. It’s no big deal but it has without a doubt unsettled me. Within the cannon of the Uncanny it is not worthy of a mention; I certainly wouldn’t get an episode of the podcast. I am in the sceptical camp of the paranormal, for me the supernatural is an entertainment. I think it was M R James who said that time should occur between the event and the telling of the story, well this account happened a few Fridays ago. So why the wait, certainly not for any artistic reasons, simply I don’t know if I should, or even feel comfortable recounting the event. I have committed now, so I will endeavour to relay the events as accurately as I can; and leave the reader to make of it what they will.

Before recounting the experience, I think it would be helpful to give a brief history of the house. The property is about 160 years old; so, it has had numerous people living in it; and in all probability some of whom have died in it; in the 1953 floods it was under six feet of water. I have lived in the house for 35 years, it would be safe to say there have been some strange occurrences over the years; but for a house of this age I would argue this is normal as opposed to abnormal. I am not going to mention these occurrences as after this incident and with hindsight, my memory could be coloured.

The day started off as most of my days, around seven thirty I got up went down stairs, put the kettle on to make a cup of tea to take on my walk. Showered and left the house for my normal route along the promenade, it was a beautiful spring morning, bright sunshine and not too much breeze, the sea was shimmering in the sunlight. It was a delight to sit and drink my tea in solitude, with just the lapping waves for company. Finishing my tea, I walked home; on arriving I decided to read my book in the garden.

This picture is a reconstruction, since the event the clock has remained on the floor. I reproduce it here to show the relative distance between the clock and where i sat.

  I had barely got a couple of sentences into the book when I felt a blow to my head, and a loud bang, it all happened at once; I leapt out of my chair, startled, shocked, dare I say it frightened. Turning I could see the clock on the floor, how on earth? I think at this time I was more shocked than hurt; why on earth did that happen? As my demeaner returned from startled cat to mystified human, I began to look for an answer.

The last time I had touched the clock was when we put the clocks forward, and that was months ago, so it certainly hadn’t been put up incorrectly; and I should point out I live alone, no one had been to the house to touch it. Well obviously, something must have broken? I looked at the trellis it was hanging from, not broken, the back of the clock, not broken; very strange. It was attached to the trellis by a butcher’s hook, perhaps that had snapped, I couldn’t see the hook it must have fallen amongst the artificial flowers?

The pictures above show the trellis with no damage, the undamaged back of the clock and the butcher's hook, this is not the actual one, the reason will become clearer later.

  I looked amongst the flowers, but couldn’t see it! I then scoured the wider area in case it had bounced, no hook. I had had enough by now my head was throbbing and I had gone off the idea of reading my book. I went indoors and carried on with my day, with the addition of two paracetamol and a couple of very stiff gins (don’t do this at home, it’s very bad for you). I went to bed that night not spooked but perturbed; and determined to forget it; but why did it happen?

I got up the following morning with every intention of following my normal routine. It was another lovely morning; I opened the back door. As soon as I did so I knew the routine was on hold. That bloody hook! Where was it? I looked all over the seating area again nothing. This time I picked the pots up one by one shook them and where possible took them apart, nothing. Perhaps it had bounced further than I thought, I went further out into the garden, nothing. Well, this was definitely a mystery.

Defeated I turned to go back into the house. I froze, what my eyes were showing me, my brain was denying. There was the hook, not on the floor, but hanging up. It was hanging from an ornamental bird cage (see picture), I am sure I would have seen it yesterday, it now appeared so obvious. Even if I am wrong about that how did this gravity defying act happen? The clock lifted off the hook; travelled horizontally, then dropped on my head; the hook lifted of the trellis, moved horizontally, and then hung itself from the bird cage.

  So that’s the story of the incident at 10.59 on a sunny Friday morning. I can’t say it left me frightened or even troubled, but it has left me mystified.  As I said at the beginning it isn’t another ‘Borley Rectory’ or ‘Battersea Poltergeist’. In the world of the paranormal it’s probably rather mundane, but it continues to mystify me. I would love someone to make sense of it for me, if that’s you, let me know, because I can’t.   I can only think of two reasons; it was a truly uncanny experience, or I made it up?

I didn’t make it up………………

#Uncanny #weird #uncannycommunity #haunting #Paranormal #Supernatural #Eerie @danny_robins @ciaranokeeffe @_EvelynHollow