The following good neighbor’s experience is the kind that sends chills down my spine. What if she’d decided to enter the tunnel-that-wasn’t? Would she ever have found her way back to this reality? Definitely an Alternate Reality spacetime-slip.
“Something bizarre occurred in my life last year during Thanksgiving week. To give a little background, I live next door to an old woman whose husband built their home. It’s a smallish house, and in the fourteen years I’ve lived next door, I’d never been inside. I would chat with her over the fence sometimes.
“One day last year, she came to the fence all upset and said there were men in her house and she couldn’t get them to leave. Would I come over and ask them to please leave? I thought it strange and went over to see what she was talking about. I searched the whole house and found no one. Jumping forward for a moment, it turns out she is in the beginning stages of dementia and was suffering from a urinary tract infection, which can exacerbate the situation, thereby causing her to hallucinate. I concluded that the ‘men’ she was seeing were part of that hallucination.
“However, in searching the house, I went down to her basement, which I found very unusual. It was small and had a ‘dug out’ feeling. There was a wooden floor that gave way to dirt, and there was a big hole in the wall which was also lined with dirt. I looked at it and wondered why it was there. Did they use it for storage? It didn’t seem to be a good place to put things because it looked like a big dirt tunnel, and it was so deep when I got close, I couldn’t even see the end. I thought, oh, this must be a root cellar and started looking for roots in the ceiling. It seemed so dark, I couldn’t find the ‘edges’ of the room. In fact, the word ‘amorphous’ came to mind. I left and told her there was no one in the house.
“Two days later, she was on my doorstep with her bags all packed and she is thinking I am her employer from 50 years ago. I knew she wasn’t well, so my husband and I walked her back home and subsequently took her to the hospital for treatment. I had told my husband about the basement upon my return home, two days previously. Now I wanted him to see it.
“Well, when we went down . . . it wasn’t the same place! It was roughly ten times larger, with a cement floor and white cinder block walls. In addition, it was filled with things I would have remembered; a washer and dryer, an old ten-speed bike from decades earlier, a big pile of old stuffed animals that were also from decades earlier. It was very well lit. I was mortified and searched all around the house again for that room with the big dirt tunnel. I never found it and she said this was her only basement.
“So not only did I see the ‘first’ basement with the dirt tunnel when I was searching the house, I never saw the ‘second’ one until I returned with my husband. Both times, I searched every inch of the house. Don’t forget, I was looking for someone and wanted to reassure her no one was there. It’s a small place, so I couldn’t have missed it. So I can’t explain it. It bothers me a lot. If anyone can offer up any insight, I would be most appreciative since I am not given to hallucinations and am not on drugs.”