(265) &&&-?- !!**~~

Three small quasi-psychic events: I went for a walk in the mall yesterday, I often do, and as I walked along I noticed a sign that said “danger—mobility scooters”. I had never seen the sign before, it being slightly tucked away, and I stared at it with considerable concentration—imagined a mobility scooter. I’d never seen one in the mall at all—and I go there often. I walked on to go to the toilets— the scooter disappeared from my mind and I thought, in a bemused way, how there were never any mobility scooters in the mall. Then I turned the curved corner to the men’s toilets and nearly collided with a large mobility scooter going at full clip.

This morning, I looked at some analgesics on the table next to my bed—and a voice said, “You should take those with you, you’ll need them later,” except it didn’t really say that; it was more a pre-verbal thought that I should take them with me, intuition. However, I dismissed it with my conscious mind and reasoned “I feel fine, I don’t need them—and I don’t see why I’d need them.” I went out into town—where, about three hours later, I found I had a bad neck ache because I had apparently slept badly; and, in consequence, I ended up buying some analgesics. Always listen to the voice of command.

Finally, I cast about on the Internet Archive for some other books by Peter J. Caroll, the chaos magician, and as I did so I came across a book about the lover of the lesbian novelist Radclyffe Hall, named Una Troubridge. I flicked to a random page and it was about how the two women did experiments with the Society for Psychical Research, an organisation I happened to write about yesterday, and how they found that spheres of light (per Hartsfell, also written about yesterday) manifested at the bottom of their beds. It was clear synchronicity. Three psychic vignettes.