The Vanishing Golfer
A few months ago, on a restless summer night, I found myself awake at the crack of dawn, watching for birds from my window. My gaze drifted from the sky to the ground below, taking in the familiar view of the footpath, the grassy patch, and my gravel driveway, all bordered by a thick hedge with a single narrow opening.
Suddenly, I noticed a man striding purposefully towards the house. He wore a blue hoodie and carried a set of golf clubs on his back, an odd sight considering we lived nowhere near a golf course. My initial fear was of a break-in, as I watched him approach, the image of him vandalizing my home flashing through my mind.
Panic rising, I drew the curtains and heard the distinctive crunch of his footsteps on the gravel driveway. I scrambled out of bed and rushed to my friend's room, where she was spending the night. I woke her up, frantically explaining what I had just witnessed. Hesitantly, she joined me at the window, but to our astonishment, the man had vanished. We scanned the street in both directions, but there was no sign of him.
Confused and unsettled, I later inquired with my neighbor, eliminating the possibility of him being a visitor or someone passing through. The man's disappearance defied logic; he couldn't have simply vanished from sight within the short time frame and the limited space.
The incident left me with an unsettling feeling, a mystery without explanation. Who was this man, and how did he disappear so completely? The memory of the vanishing golfer lingers, a strange and unexplained encounter that continues to baffle me.
