Most of us live in a state of mindless acceptance. We walk through a bit questioned area of this life because we were indoctrinated about many things in our youth, so we’re programmed with the prejudices and belief systems of our parents and people before them, so we rarely see existence as it truly is, but from time to time something it may open our minds and suggest that what we expect we all know concerning the universe is nonsense.
One of probably the most irritating things that may awaken someone and break them out of conditioning is time shifting, since it makes a mockery of every part the older people taught us about time.
We consider that point has an arrow that runs from the past to the long run and flows steadily and nothing can speed it up or slow it down.
The great Isaac Newton believed on this belief, but Einstein and other scientists then proved, first mathematically after which experimentally, that point may be stretched like a rubber band in a process often known as time dilation and now even “time lapse.” ' is viewed with suspicion by quantum physicists concerned with time reversal symmetry – because it could seem that point can move forward AND backward.
Time shifting is a phenomenon that enables an individual to seek out themselves prior to now or future; in fact, all of us move into the long run at a rate of 1 second per second, but within the time skips I'm talking about, people can find themselves hours and even centuries in the long run – or prior to now.
In late March 2020, when the country was in lockdown as a consequence of the Covid-19 pandemic, a homeless 45-year-old man named Gavin was in search of a spot to sleep for the night.
He had been sleeping rough for the past three years, starting with “sofa surfing” at friends' houses until their patience wore thin due to his drinking problem.
There has been talk of plans to maneuver homeless people off the streets into emergency 'Covid-safe' accommodation, but nobody has contacted Gavin yet.
He was walking along the deserted Oxton Road in Wirral, UK, heading towards Grange Road, where an old fashioned friend, George, probably lived in a flat above the shop.
If George were still there, surely he wouldn't have sent him away? Gavin bowed his head against the icy, tearing wind, with a shawl wrapped around his neck, an old tweed jacket buttoned, and a chilly fist clenched across the strap of the bag that held a five-pound note, a small radio with a dying battery, someone's lost reading glasses, underwear, socks, and a duplicate of Jonathan Livingston's novella Seagull.
Before Gavin reached Grange Road, something unusual happened.
There was an explosion of noise – people's voices, the clatter of horses pulling carts, and now the sun was shining.
Gavin felt as if he had been transported to Spain, although the environment were vaguely familiar.
The McDonalds was gone and as a substitute stood an enormous pub. He was still around Charing Cross, but that was clearly prior to now and it looked prefer it was summer. Gavin thought he should go into the pub where McDonald's had been lower than a minute ago, but a policeman stood in his way and asked, “Where are you from?” and he looked Gavin up and down, his steely, pale blue eyes, which looked fluorescent within the shadow of the sharp helmet, focused on Gavin's bag.
“Listen, officer, you won't believe this, but I'm from the year 2000,” Gavin said, and now he went from the optimism of feeling the summer heat on his face to the terrible realization that he was in one other era, perhaps Victorian.
The policeman narrowed his outstanding blue eyes and said, “That's a really good story you're telling. I think you better start talking or you'll start talking! Name and company, sharp.
– My name is Gavin [and he gave his surname and his former address when he lived on Claremount Road, Wallasey three years ago]. And I don't run any business at the moment, I'm homeless. I used to be a programmer.
Gavin said the last sentence humbly, because he knew that this policeman had no idea what his profession was. He just knew that he would now be arrested and interrogated.
The copper moved his helmet slightly and scratched his forehead. – Well, I dare say that in all these years I have never encountered such an excessive portion of poppy seeds! Are you in your right mind, sir, or have you lost your mind?
“I know it sounds crazy, but I'm telling the truth,” Gavin said, his mouth going dry. There was a scream behind the policeman. He turned and checked out the 2 men fighting outside the pub Gavin was heading to, the Grange Hotel.
The policeman turned to Gavin and said, “You stay here while I go and deal with them!” Do you understand?' and pointed to a small road island after which ran towards the fighting drunks.
Gavin stood still for a moment before taking his possibilities and fleeing down Grange Road. He almost collided with a bicycle and a trailer – an odd situation during which a person in a straw boat was pedaling a bicycle with a two-wheeled rickshaw-type vehicle tied to it, and on it sat a lady wearing an enormous hat decorated with artificial flowers.
Gavin kept running, attempting to put as much distance between himself and the officers as possible; the considered being stuck in a bygone era in a grim cell on the police station terrified him.
Gavin found himself on Conway Street, where he was approached by a rough-looking young man and an associate named Tommy, and the previous asked what was within the bag. “Nothing of value, just clothes,” Gavin said, knowing what would occur next.
“Give it here,” Tommy said, took the bag from Gavin and asked his friend, “Can we take his coat, Johnny?”
A person got here out of a close-by pawn shop and said to 2 robbers: “Give it to this man, or I will notify that policeman!”
“Johnny” dropped the bag at Gavin's feet, and he and Tommy ran down the alley.
– Is every part okay, sir? the person asked, explained that he was one in every of the owners of a close-by pawn shop, and advised Gavin to go and confer with a policeman in the space. – The big guy who wanted your bag was John Rimmer. He is well-known to the police.
“Thank you very much,” said a grateful Gavin, who had no intention of contacting any law enforcement officials as a consequence of the strangeness of the situation. He asked a matter that should have seemed very strange to the pawnbroker: “I know this may sound strange, but what year is it now?”
“Eh?” – asked the surprised Good Samaritan.
“I got a knock on my head and I can't remember what year it is,” said a quick-thinking Gavin.
“The year is 1909,” the person replied and advised Gavin to see a physician.
The shock of hearing that it was 1909 made Gavin feel dizzy and immediately he found himself back in 2020.
Not long after, he got here down with Covid and a disturbing thought occurred to him: Could he have passed that damned virus to that policeman or those ruffians back in 1909?
Author: Tomek Slemen, a author from Liverpool, best often known as the writer of the best-selling “Haunted Liverpool” series of books documenting paranormal phenomena and unsolved or unusual crimes. Check out his books Amazon here.
Image Source: Pixabay.com
