Spoooky Coincidence
B3ta's very own Fraser was once a cycle courier. On one job out to docklands his radio gave out, so he had to find a public phonebox to ring back to base.
He'd just located one when it began to ring. Picking it up, it was (obviously) a wrong number, but Fraser recognised the voice. Turned out it was a mate of his he hadn't seen for ages.
What spoooky* coincidences have you encountered?
* spoooky should always have three o's. 100% fact
( , Thu 8 Feb 2007, 14:07)
B3ta's very own Fraser was once a cycle courier. On one job out to docklands his radio gave out, so he had to find a public phonebox to ring back to base.
He'd just located one when it began to ring. Picking it up, it was (obviously) a wrong number, but Fraser recognised the voice. Turned out it was a mate of his he hadn't seen for ages.
What spoooky* coincidences have you encountered?
* spoooky should always have three o's. 100% fact
( , Thu 8 Feb 2007, 14:07)
« Go Back
a massive chain of events and a bit of an emotional ending
Mrs Toast is an illustrator who does work for various publishing companies around the world, one of which is based in France.
Many years ago she had some trouble getting hold of a copy of one of the magazine issues featuring her work. The publisher sent two out but they never arrived.
Skip forward several weeks and my cousin (who travels to France regularly) said she'd pick a copy up if it was still in the shops.
She managed to grab a couple of copies from Le WHSmith and brought them back with her.
However there was another delay here and there and it took another week or so before she managed to drop the magazine off at my parents house.
I had left home several years before but was working 5 miles away so decided to nip over during my lunchbreak to collect the magazine.
No one was in, so I grabbed the magazines and was about to leave, when for some reason I decided to go upstairs where I was met by my old cat. He was about 17 years old now and had been my pet since he was a kitten.
On seeing me he leapt up from the bed, meow'd alot and started purring, rubbing around my legs and being generally cat like.
After about 10 minutes of this I had to get back off to work so said goodbye and set off.
2 hours later my mum phoned to say that she had got home to find Tom had died in his sleep on their bed. That he had been very quiet and shakey for the last few days and his arthritis was really getting the better of him, so it was probably a blessing.
If Mrs Toast hadn't done the illustrations for that company in France who failed to send stuff out and my cousin hadn't been going to France and able to find the magazine and then have various delays so that the magazine didn't get to me until the day it did.... I would not have seen my cat one last time.
When I explained to my mum how bright and alive he had been on seeing me she fell apart crying, and I almost do typing this.
It's my one bit of possible, personal evidence that fate exists, and it does scare me a bit.
( , Fri 9 Feb 2007, 8:00, Reply)
Mrs Toast is an illustrator who does work for various publishing companies around the world, one of which is based in France.
Many years ago she had some trouble getting hold of a copy of one of the magazine issues featuring her work. The publisher sent two out but they never arrived.
Skip forward several weeks and my cousin (who travels to France regularly) said she'd pick a copy up if it was still in the shops.
She managed to grab a couple of copies from Le WHSmith and brought them back with her.
However there was another delay here and there and it took another week or so before she managed to drop the magazine off at my parents house.
I had left home several years before but was working 5 miles away so decided to nip over during my lunchbreak to collect the magazine.
No one was in, so I grabbed the magazines and was about to leave, when for some reason I decided to go upstairs where I was met by my old cat. He was about 17 years old now and had been my pet since he was a kitten.
On seeing me he leapt up from the bed, meow'd alot and started purring, rubbing around my legs and being generally cat like.
After about 10 minutes of this I had to get back off to work so said goodbye and set off.
2 hours later my mum phoned to say that she had got home to find Tom had died in his sleep on their bed. That he had been very quiet and shakey for the last few days and his arthritis was really getting the better of him, so it was probably a blessing.
If Mrs Toast hadn't done the illustrations for that company in France who failed to send stuff out and my cousin hadn't been going to France and able to find the magazine and then have various delays so that the magazine didn't get to me until the day it did.... I would not have seen my cat one last time.
When I explained to my mum how bright and alive he had been on seeing me she fell apart crying, and I almost do typing this.
It's my one bit of possible, personal evidence that fate exists, and it does scare me a bit.
( , Fri 9 Feb 2007, 8:00, Reply)
« Go Back