TERROR

One autumn evening, about two years ago, I was cycling home from my village and going in the direction of the mountains. Every inch of the road was well known to me, as I had travelled hundreds of times. About 2 km from the intersection there is a cottage on the left hand side of the road, the garden of which is bounded by some pines, which leads up into the fields.  From this point the road, which has hitherto been on a gentle incline, dips down steeply for a hundred yards or so, until a second line of pines, which also leads up to the left to some houses; from this later point, it runs down at a fair decline to the cross-roads.

It was after 9 o´clock and the night was pretty dark, though there was sufficient light for me to see my way, and distinguish the objects around me, without the aid of a lamp. I was passing the cottage at the commencement of the hill, and was about to free-wheel, when suddenly something came out of the pines. I cannot tell how it progressed, whether it rolled or walked or flew and rested on the handle-bars of the bicycle. In appearance this thing resembled a large round bundle, and seemed black in color; it cannot have been an animal, as it made neither sound nor movement, and emitted no odor. It lay on the handle-bars, and filled all the space between to such an extent that I had to sit bolt upright with my head well back to avoid touching it with my face; it did not come above the level of my eyes, and I did not feel it against my hand. Under the shock of this sudden impact the machine wobbled for a moment, but I soon righted it, and considered that the best thing for me to do under the circumstances was to keep on moving. I felt no impact when the thing came on the handle-bars, as one would have felt if an animal had sprung on them; but no sooner was it there than the bicycle became so heavy that I had actually to pedal hard to get down a hill where normally I used to free-wheel and brake.

I pedaled down the hill until I reached the third line of pines, when the thing disappeared as suddenly as it had come.  Where or how it went, I cannot say. Relieved of this weight, the bicycle bounded on until I reached the safety of the village.  I cannot offer any explanation of this weird experience, and I never met anyone who could. Anyway, every fall I can´t help cycling to that mysterious location to search for clues. Maybe, one day I will encounter this apparition again. Who knows? One thing is for certain; the world is a place full of mysteries.

Sergio Calle Llorens