The Strange Coincidences Archive

I started reading ‘The Jewel In The Crown’ by Paul Scott about three weeks ago. Then last weekend my mother bought a brass ornament in a charity shop. She asked me if I knew what it was. The ornament was a dancing Siva with his two legs and four arms, leaping within a circle of fire and standing on the body of ignorance and evil. And how did I know what the ornament was in such startling detail? Because there was a detailed description of a wooden dancing Siva carving on page 152 of the book I was reading.

For many years, I’d had some amber beads that were once part of an old necklace. The beads had been the same size at the ends of the necklace, getting progressively larger towards the centre. I suspected that a few of the smaller beads were missing along with one of the beads from either side of the largest centre bead. Then last year, my mother bought a string of assorted beads in a charity shop. When she showed me the string I was amazed to discover that one of the beads was exactly the same type as the amber beads I had. But I was even more amazed when I discovered that the bead on her string was exactly the same size as the bead missing from the centre of my necklace.

In 1993, I was invited to take part in the office sweep for the British Grand National. The horse I chose turned out to be a non runner a few days before the scheduled race. I asked the organiser of the sweep if I could have my money back but she refused as it was “just the luck of the draw”. I didn’t think this was very fair as I had paid my money but had ended up with a horse that wasn’t running. But I had the last laugh. It was the year that the National was a non starter because all the jockeys got tangled up when the starting ribbon failed to fall away. The organiser of the sweep had to go round everyone in the office and give them back their money.

I worked for a company once and when I first started, I didn’t have a coffee mug of my own. But I was told it didn’t matter because there were some spare mugs under the sink that no one used. As it turned out, the spare mugs were all of a pale blue variety with initials belonging to the previous owners, Tippexed on the side. I took a mug with the initial ‘C’ and I was told that the mug had belonged to a former employee named Carl. There was a caricature of Carl, pinned to the notice board.

I left my old company at the end of 1998 and started working for a new company. Soon after I started, a guy called at the office to visit his old colleagues. He had moved to England several years earlier and was back in Northern Ireland visiting family. I knew I had never met this guy before but there was something vaguely familiar about him. Then my boss introduced him to me because he knew we had once worked for the same company. He introduced the guy as Carl.

So I’m on the bus coming through the Lincoln Tunnel into Manhattan. I’m on my way to work when a bus passes my bus. On the side of the bus is
“Keppert Bus Lines”. A bus line I’d never heard of. That was the last name of a guy I knew who lived in Manhattan, but I probably had’nt seen him in years. I get off my bus in
Times Square and sure enough Pat Kepperts walking down the street. (In a city w/ 10,000,000 people!

Almost every day when i looks at a clock or something that changes numbers i see 9: 10, ive heard from sandra brown if you see occuring numbers it’s usually from dead peaople showing you that they remember you but i havent had anyone die lately and it’s really weird that it doesnt even sound like a coincidence any more. just now i hung up on my friend on my cell phone and it had 9 minutes and ten seconds and it freaked me out so i decided to see what i could find on the internet.

A couple of years ago, I was invited to sleep at my parents place for the week-end. On the first night I was staying over we had gone to have dinner at an fancy restaurant, therefor I had dressed up nicely and wore earrings which I rarelly did. They were gold, perfectly round little balls the size of little marbles. That night I undressed in the bathroom, leaving my earrings on the edge of the sink, close to where one leaves the soap. For no apparent reason, I thought to myself “better plug the sink, they’d roll into the drain if ever there was an earthquake, ” ...and I did, plug the sink’s drain (how nerdy can one get, I ask you?). The next morning, half asleep, I went downstairs to the kitchen to have breakfast with my parents, as I was sitting down, my father says to me “did you feel the earthquake last night?” Needless to say, I don’t live in California, but in a city where earthquakes are very rare, for I experienced two (including that one), in my entire 37 years old life.

we just moved into our new house here in wasilla, alaska like 3 weeks ago and in our shed outside we found a birth certificate from seattle, washington and the name was “Jerome Curtis Estes” and Estes is our last name.. its odd because noone in our family has ever lived in alaska before us and we barely ever come by another estes.. its like this house was meant for us.. or sumthing more..

One morning i awoke from having a horrible nightmare. I had been dreaming of myself and several other people being stuck in an elevator and rapidly decending. In this dream, we had also been rapidly going up as well. Each time up or down i was consumed with the fear of God of why the doors would not open. As i was screaming an old man in the elevator reached out to me and said something like “dont worry, we are all going on a little Journey” That was the last thing i remember. I awoke freezing and terrified. I told my husband that morning as he was getting ready for work. At the time we just thought it was another one of my bad dreams. Later that day my husband rushed home completly horrified, like so many others in the tri-state area, the day was Tuesday September 11, 2001. I don’t know what you would call this, but ever since this has happened, my husband and i have been keeping a dream journal. Many other strange coincidences have taken place after dreaming them.
Janice

ok i swear im telling the truth about all of this ur about to read.ok everybody in my kinda has this sixth sence we have all seen at least one ghost throught our lifetime.one night i had this freaky dream that their was a little boy in my bathroom wearing a red shirt and blue jeans.i had a very strange suspision that he was a ghost so i picked up a towel and trew it at him.just as i suspected it went through him so oviously he was a ghost.he started to say something to me he was screaming help me, help me,and then i woke up.i was watching the news about an hour later and it said that a little boy had just been murdered then it showed his picture and it was the same little boy from my dream wearing the same clothes and everything.i freaked out majorly,now that is a very strange thing if u ask me