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I’ve mentioned before http://wp.me/p2C8Zz-ng that coincidences are just that – coincidental. A bit unsettling at the time, but no really big deal. They’re bound to happen. But yesterday, something rather spooky happened…

A friend/fellow (but much more successful) writer sent me a message that he’d just got back from a holiday in Toronto. Since I’m not one to miss an opportunity for self aggrandisement, I sent him a link to my pre-Christmas story ‘Coming Home For Christmas,’ http://www.readwave.com/coming-home-for-christmas_s19016 By random chance I had set it in Mississauga, one of the satellite towns of the city, and home to Pearson Airport, which was critical to the plot. My friend liked the story, I got an additional read on ReadWave, and all was well with the world. Then it all went a bit strange, and I swear I am not making this next bit up.

Mid afternoon my mobile phone rang. I didn’t recognise the number, and as I always do in such circumstances switched it to silent and waited till the caller got bored. The ringing stopped, then there was a pause, then the caller disconnected. Clearly leaving a message. Beep, new message pops up. I dialled the message service (something I very rarely do to be frank), and just got that eerie slightly whistly near silence that you get when your caller has hung up on you. Out of idle curiosity, I used a reverse directory enquiry on the incoming number. And this is where it gets a bit ‘Outer Limits.’

The phone call had originated in no other place than Mississauga, Ontario, and appeared to be from the local copshop. Now just how odd is that? Any explanations? I haven’t.