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please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction, and use AI to proof read and help solve this issue so you can understand it
Good afternoon, readers—yes, I did suffer a real time slip event in Bideford. In fact, several in North Devon and Cornwall over the years of living there. Even saw a few big black triangles seemingly hovering over the bay near where we once lived.
This is a tongue-in-cheek version—some real, some not—but the core experience? Absolutely valid. The universe has a darkly humorous sense of humour, and it loves to mess with you when you least expect it.
The Long Bridge: Where the Past is a Jerk
Let’s set the scene. You’re in Bideford, a charming little town where the river runs black (because of course it does this place doesn’t do "normal"), and the moonlight plays tricks on your eyes. You cross the Long Bridge, expecting a pleasant stroll, maybe a ghost tour, maybe just the sound of your own existential dread echoing back at you.
But no. The past here isn’t just there it’s active. It’s like the universe’s way of saying, "Oh, you wanted history? Here, have a whole century uninvited."
The Rules (According to the Universe)
- Don’t Look Left or Right – Because if you do, you’ll see things that shouldn’t be there. Like a man in Victorian clothes standing where there was definitely a doorway five seconds ago.
- Ghost Tours Are Optional – If you sign up for one, expect the guide to suddenly realize they’re not alone. "That’s impossible," they’ll say, while some stranger in 19th-century garb tips his hat and vanishes like a bad Wi-Fi signal.
- The River Runs Backwards (Or You Do) – Because why should time flow logically when you could be standing on the bridge arguing with a man who claims you’re the ghost?
A Personal Account of Time-Slip Madness
I was there once. A ghost tour started at half past eight, and I followed the guide like a good little tourist. Then—poof—there were three of us. One with a lantern (very dramatic), one with a phone (very 2023), and one just standing there, waiting to go home.
The guide? Panicking. "That’s impossible."
The stranger? Smiling. "Not according to the bus."
And then because the universe loves irony the fog rolled in, and nobody was there.
The River Knows Your Name
At some point, you’ll hear bells. Not church bells. Midnight bells. At 11:30 AM.
You’ll see a horse clattering past while cars zoom by, because of course they do—this place doesn’t respect traffic laws either.
And then, just when you think it can’t get weirder, some guy in Victorian clothes will stare at you like you’re the one who’s out of place. "Sir, you’ve been standing there since 1892," he’ll say, before vanishing beneath the bridge.
Final Thoughts (Or Lack Thereof)
If you ever find yourself on the Long Bridge, ask yourself: Do I want to see the past?
The answer is probably no. But if you do, just remember—don’t wave back.
Because if they wave first… well. That’s when you know.
You’ve crossed over.
Or they have.
Either way, you’re screwed.
For the Paranormally Curious
"I’m on the Long Bridge in Bideford, and I think I’ve slipped into 1892. What do I do?" Ah, so you’ve finally noticed the time slip? Congratulations, you’re now a main character in North Devon’s most underrated horror story.*
Here’s what to do: 1. Don’t panic. The universe doesn’t like drama. 2. Check your pockets. If you find a pocket watch, it’s either a cool souvenir or proof you’ve been possessed by a Victorian ghost. (Spoiler: It’s the latter.) 3. Ask for directions. If someone in 19th-century clothes stares at you, just smile and say, "Lovely weather we’re having." Then run. 4. If all else fails, blame the bus. (Works every time.)
Final Note: If you ever find yourself on the Long Bridge, just rememberthe past is watching you. And it’s laughing.
(Or maybe that’s just me. Either way, I’m not alone in this.)
sending all readers of the blog peace healing love and light
Warlock Dark
Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)
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