I was on my way back to campus when it started to rain. A few drops at first. Then I heard thunder. Without an umbrella and desperate for shelter in the middle of nowhere, I ran into what looked like an outhouse. It wasn't luxury but it was dry. I felt a bit tired so I decided to have a nap. I woke about an hour later to find a flashlight pointing at me. I could just see the outline of a tall man. Feeling panicked, I ran to the door. It wouldn't open. I tried again but it still didn't budge. I grabbed my phone, but it didn't work. The guy approached me, and I told him I would scream if he hurt me. He advanced further, and I managed to push him off me, but in the struggle, I dropped my phone. Just as I was about to give up hope, I tried the door again and it opened. I was running away when I heard a noise behind me. The outhouse had been struck by lightning. I ran all the way back to campus and told my best friend what happened. She was somewhat puzzled. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming?" she asked. "There has been no rain tonight." Feeling a bit confused and still in shock, I had an early night. The next day the lecturer was giving a talk on local history and legends. One particular story sounded spookily familiar. About one hundred years ago, the fire department was called out to a fire in an outhouse. Apparently, it had been struck by lightning. When the fire was put out the crew made a gruesome discovery; the body of a tall young man who happened to be the farmhand. Lying next to him was his flashlight and an unidentified object-a rectangular box with numbers on one side.

Jenny Beeson, Norfolk UK