When I retired as a schoolteacher and moved to Florida, I decided I didn’t want to sit at home all day and watch TV, so I hired myself out as a part time nanny and babysitter.

Work went fine for the next month or two, then I had the strangest experience of my life.

As I walked up the steps of a house to introduce myself to a new family, I could feel my sensations becoming more acute. Anna, the woman of the house had hired me over the phone; she said my references were impeccable and she couldn’t wait to meet me. As I approached the front door, I had the strangest feeling I knew this house. Yet, I was new to the area, and I was a bit confused.

When the door opened, there was Anna with a big grin on her face. I liked her instantly as I knew I would. I glanced over her shoulder into the room and felt very much at home. As she gave me a tour of the house, I started telling her in advance what each room looked like. At first Anna was stunned – as was I – and I explained to her the strange sensations I had as I first approached the house.

We were both amazed when I described not only the layout of the master bedroom, but the individual pieces of furniture as well as the various things she had strewn around the room. Then I realized what was happening.

Occasionally, I find myself really connecting with a person. When this happens, it appears that we are of the same mind. And I certainly connected with Anna the previous night on the phone. I liked her melodic voice, her easy laugh which was kind of a giggle, and I could tell she was a genuinely nice person.

It occurred to me that because of our unique chemistry, I was picking thoughts out of her brain. This had happened to me previously, but only with people I really liked. So, when Anna and I were walking around the house, as we approached a room that she obviously knew so well, I was simply picking up bit of information from her mind.

H. Amberheart
Tampa, FL

I play in a blues band, but I don’t do it for a living. I’m a computer programmer by day, and by night I live out my fantasies with three friends I’ve known since grammar school.

We write songs during our spare time and perform at small venues in the hope some record executive will hear us. After all, what’s life without having something to dream about and hope for?

Several months ago, we stopped by a place where we sometimes perform. We just went over there for some drinks and to listen to the newcomers who play there on open mic night.

As usual, the “talent” was mediocre, but then an older woman (when I say “older,” I mean she was maybe fifty years old) walked up to the stage with her guitar and started playing. She had a quality about her that was mesmerizing, particularly because she talked rather than sing.

At first she spoke about herself, her ex, her kids. Then she looked across the room at our table and starting talking about us. At first we laughed at everything she said because we assumed she was just winging it, making things up. She spoke about who we were, our aspirations, the kind of music we played, what did for a living. But then she was getting very specific – and very accurate. She was right on.

Here was a complete stranger talking about us as if she had known us all our lives. And she was mentioning intimate details that we had never talked about other than within our own group. Things like what we thought about the manager of our band, how we almost let our drummer go even though he was a good buddy (You should have seen the look he gave us when she mentioned that.)

And when she said Barry, our lead guitarist, was leaving his job to start a business, his mouth dropped open. He had never mentioned it to us.

Afterwards, she came over and sat with us. We questioned her knowledge of us and still thought it was some kind of trick. Then she dropped this bombshell: She looked at Gary and told him she was sorry his parents would be getting divorced. Gary stiffened and said his parents had been happily married for almost thirty years. She looked at him and nodded, then excused herself and walked away.

We all looked at Gary who seemed distraught. Then he called after her and said you may be right, they just started talking a few weeks ago about living separately. He asked how she could have possibly have known. She smiled and touched her heart. “It’s all in here,” she said. She wished us good luck and walked out of the building and that’s the last we ever saw of her.

H. Gubinoff
Toronto, Canada

I have worked in retail for over nineteen years and believe me, in that time I have seen everything – from the nicest people in the world to the nastiest. I’ve seen a woman go into labor and rush off to the hospital, and I saw an elderly man collapse in front of me with a serious heart attack.

But perhaps the strangest incident was the woman who was shabbily dressed and walked through the door carrying a stack of magazines. She laid them down on the counter right in front of me and started leafing through the pages, periodically looking up at me and smiling.

Then, in the calmest, sweetest voice I ever heard, she said, I’m not crazy you know. I had expected to hear a voice that was a little off, a little brittle. I didn’t think she would sound like a normal, intelligent person.

Holding a few of the magazines in her hands, she told me she picks up “clues” from writers who write in “code” in magazines and newspapers. Now I knew she was a whacko and she noticed the look in my eyes and said, I know something about you that could be very helpful to you.

I said, uh huh, sure. And then she dropped the bombshell on me. She put her face very close to mine and said, “You should marry her, you know.” I said what are you talking about, and she said, “Marie.”

Well, I was stunned. Marie was my girlfriend whom I had just met a month ago, and she was threatening to walk out on me if I refused to marry her. This had come to a head the previous night, and how in the world did this strange vagabond know about it. After all, I had told no one at work about Marie because I try to separate business from pleasure.

I said, how do you know about Marie, and she started leafing through one of her magazines. Looking up, she said it’s all in here, it’s all in here. Then she abruptly turned and walked out.

I never saw her again, but I’ll never understand how she did it. My best guess is that although I have no doubt she’s mentally ill and my heart goes out to her, somehow she has developed psychic capabilities that allow her to pick up information from a person’s thoughts.

And then it came to me… when she entered the store and walked toward my counter, Marie was definitely on my mind at the time. I think she “heard” my thoughts and that’s why in this large store I worked in, she came directly up to me.

R. Landry
Houston, Texas

It was the sixteenth of October and I was getting ready to celebrate my 29nd birthday with my fiancée, Lawrence.

We had been dating for over a year, and he had asked me to marry him the previous weekend.  I was surprised because he had expressed so many times that marriage was not for him.  My parents were ecstatic and they were dropping hints that it was now or never for me, that if I didn’t accept his proposal, I might never get another opportunity.

What confidence they had in me.  And what a wonderful time it was for me; or, rather, what a wonderful time it should have been for me.  Let me explain.

There was something about Lawrence that never seemed to be “exactly” right.  I mean, he had a wonderful personality, an excellent physique, good looking in a rough sort of way, and a very sharp sense of humor.  What’s wrong with that?

Well, there was always something a bit secretive about him.  It was as if he was holding something back, but I could never put my finger on it.  So here I was awaiting Lawrence to come over on my birthday, and I had this awful premonition that something was wrong, that today of all days, I was going to learn something about my fiancée that could possibly ruin it all.

And for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why I felt this way.  Lawrence had never given any indication at all that something was wrong.  But as I was about to learn, unfortunately my premonition was right on target.

Lawrence walked in and I could see in his face something was askew.  I had never seen that look before and asked if he was OK.  He nodded he was fine, but he looked very, very serious.  My folks were in the room, and I asked if he wanted to go somewhere and have some privacy.

We went in the den.  I held his hand and told him I had this feeling from the moment I had awakened that something was terribly wrong with our relationship.  He simply looked at me and asked how I knew.  I just said I did and to please tell me with your words.  You see, at that moment I wasn’t at all sure what he was going to tell me, and I was kind of bluffing that I knew precisely what was wrong, when, in fact, I didn’t have a clue.

But he took the bait, sat on the edge of the loveseat and looked at me for a very, very long time before speaking.  Finally, he blurted out,  “I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you.  I’m leaving for New York in the morning.”

It was at that moment that I read his mind.  “It’s Marsha,” I said.  He nodded and asked how I knew since he had never mentioned her before.  “Honestly,” I replied, “I didn’t know until this very moment and I think I plucked her name out of your head.”

Well, our relationship ended right there.  I was devastated as were my folks.  So I’m out in the “singles world” again and surviving.  I don’t like it and would rather be settled down with a husband and kids, but at least I didn’t marry someone who was waiting for his old love to ask him to return.  Which is exactly what happened.

T. Wellison
London, England

In a 1990 radio interview, Francois Truffaut, an icon of the French film industry, recalled this incident.  “I was not getting a very sound night’s sleep because we were going to film a very complex scene in the morning.  I knew my leading lady was fragile, and the actor opposite her was temperamental, to say the least.

“Although it is my responsibility as director to maintain total control of the set, it is always my intention to have happy actors.  My failure to accomplish that will not optimize their talents, and the finished product will certainly suffer the consequences.

“Sure enough, when I walked on the set, I was alerted by my assistant that my feminine lead was in her trailer — in tears and not at all ready to participate in the demanding scene we were about to film.

“When I entered her trailer she explained that she ‘knew’ what I was thinking about her fragility and that I had spent a restless night worrying about it.

I nodded that she was correct and inquired how she could have possibly known that.  She replied that from the first day of shooting she had been able to pick up on my thoughts.  I’m sure she picked up on my horror at that notion because although she was very, very gifted, she was, indeed, a challenge to work with.

“Well, from that moment on until we wrapped the movie, I was careful not to think negative thoughts about her — or anyone else for that matter.  She also made me promise I would never reveal our little secret to anyone because she didn’t want anyone else to know I thought she had a fragile personality.”

My name is Jacob and I’ve been interested in parapsychology ever since I was a kid.  Because my intuition is so highly developed, sometimes I feel as if I’m from another planet.

Growing up I remember my mother occasionally asking me if my dad had left work yet.  If I saw a vision of him walking into a store, I would tell her he would surprise her with some chocolates.  As I recall, she never was surprised when my predictions were right on target.  In her later years, she would tell me that my intuition – my psychic abilities – were evident to her even when I was still in the crib.

I have been married three times and divorced three times.  I have six kids and one of them, Seth, has similar abilities to mine.  He and I still play gin rummy together and give each other a look as if to say we know what cards the other person needs.  I still sense when he’ll call seconds before the phone rings.  He tells me he has the same experience.

My wives had mixed feelings about my ability to read their minds.  On the one hand they thought it was “cute;” on the other hand, none of my wives could keep a secret for long.

For instance, my first wife, Kathy, had an affair, and although I knew what was going on, I never revealed it.  That is, until one afternoon when we were driving to a friend’s house.  She happened to mention that I wasn’t as intuitive as I thought I was, and that I often overestimated my talent.

That’s when I dropped the bombshell and told her whom she was seeing and for how long it was going on.  She gripped the steering wheel and for a moment I thought we were going to crash.

J. Erland
Louisville, KY

I own a small temp agency and have being doing this for over twenty years.  Last week I had an experience I will never forget.  And one thing is very clear:  I will never be able to understand or explain what happened.

Her name is Marge and she walked in the door unannounced and without an appointment.

Marge is about forty years old, about 5’4″ tall, slightly stocky but with a very appealing presence.  She explained she had just moved to California from back East, and she was just settling in to her new life with her longtime boyfriend.

Marge sat down before I had a chance to tell her she needed an appointment, and I immediately had the impression that she was different.  Different in the sense that the look in her eyes was unlike anything I had ever seen.

It was a kind of “all-knowing” look.  She had the eyes of someone ancient, someone whose experience had implanted both knowledge and sadness.  And when she began to talk I was absolutely mesmerized by what she had to say.

She told me fascinating stories about her childhood.  Her father had been a missionary in Africa and was killed by a raiding party in Kenya when she was only a child.  She was then raised by an aunt because her mother never recovered from the violent death of her husband.

And her tales of her life with her aunt was fascinating because she explained that her aunt had remarkable powers of ESP and that many of these powers had been “transferred” to her.  By this she meant that she, too, could read minds and know exactly what someone was thinking.

Actually, when she told me this I was wondering what my wife’s reaction would be when I told her what I was now hearing.  To my surprise, Marge blurted out:  “She will think I’m crazy.”

I said, “What did you say?”  Marge replied: “Your wife will think I’m a nut.”  Well, that left me with no doubt whatsoever that Marge does, indeed, have the gift of ESP.

She went on to tell me other things that crossed my mind during our conversation, such as guessing correctly the names of two of my three kids’ names.  And something about my childhood that was very personal – which I don’t care to reveal to anyone else, not even my wife.

I’ve never had an experience like this before.

Two days ago, I was able to place Marge on a work assignment and I have very high aspirations for her.  She is an exceptional person.

C. Torres
Chico, CA

Her name is Angel, and she is truly an angel.

The way we work it here in the office is I’m given an assignment, usually a product for which to create an ad.  I’ll write the copy than arrange a meeting with Angel so she can do the artwork.

Our mission is to create an ad or ads that people will be drawn to and remember.  When I first sit down with Angel, I am usually geared up to present her with my ideas, but most of the time she simply picks up on my thoughts and starts sketching ideas that I have in my mind.

I don’t know how she does it, but time after time she usually hits it on the mark.  She has the ability to climb inside my head, and it’s both fascinating and unnerving.

One minor problem is she is quite beautiful and sexy, but we stay careful not to get personal as our company has strict policies about “extra-curricular” activities.  The problem, of course, is sometimes I can’t take my eyes off her and she knows exactly what I’m thinking.  I mean to the last detail, if you know what I mean.

It has happened more than once when I have a vision of the two of us in a compromising position, and she has whispered in my ear, “Nice thought but forget it buster.”

Fortunately she has a good sense of humor, but it is unnerving knowing she can see what I am envisioning.  It helps in creating an advertising campaign but embarrassing when I’m thinking of “other” things.

B. Andrews
White Plains, NY

Ever since I was a youngster, I have had this thing about watches, clocks and any kind of timepiece.

I suppose I’m fascinated by time and that’s why I’m writing you.  Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, I can guess what time it is almost to the exact minute.  It’s a trait I’ve had since I was a kid, and I’ve never met anyone else who had the same ability.

Also, I’ve never owned a watch.  Even when I was in college I never bothered to have one because I knew exactly when I was due in class.  I didn’t need a watch to remind me.

I also am quite adept at reading minds.  My mother still gets mildly upset with me because I can’t resist finishing her sentences for her.  I also tell her what’s on her mind even when we first get on the phone.

Last week as soon as I heard her voice I told her that she was upset with a specific person.  She is so used to me doing this, she just laughed.

She and I are on the same wavelength I suppose, although she can’t read my mind.  That’s the frustrating part of it for her.  But she does have a good sense of humor and I think she’s kind of proud of my “gifts.”

And one more thing.  Several years ago, my roommate was distressed because she hadn’t heard from her brother in quite awhile.  Without my ever meeting him, I knew exactly what the problem was.  He had lost his job and was embarrassed to tell her about it.  When she called him that is exactly what he told her.  Somehow I had picked up on his wavelength through my association with his sister.

H. Jacobson
Akron, OH

My profession is representing sportswear companies and my territory spans up and down the West Coast.

I have been blessed with what I call a special talent.  In effect, I am a gifted psychic and I can read minds with ease.  This is why I feel I’ve been so successful on the sales end.  Put simply, I can see the wheels spinning in my customer’s mind and because of that I am prepared in advance for anything they decide to throw at me.

For instance, when I’m on the phone, I can tell beforehand if a person is really interested or is shining me on.  I can also tell how hard a bargain someone is willing to drive; that is, I know when someone will walk away from a deal or is merely trying to get a better price out of me.

All this helps me in my negotiations, and it also enables me to have better relationships with my clients.  They see me as someone who sympathizes with them because I am able to read their minds, know what they want, and smooth the way.

I also am somewhat of a gambler, and visit from time to time in Las Vegas or Reno.  I love poker, and you can imagine how I have a certain amount of one-ups-man-ship in that I have above average instincts as to whether a person is bluffing or not.  And that is a huge advantage for me.

I haven’t made a fortune in gambling, but I am way ahead of the game.  I feel I have been blessed with psychic talents and I don’t feel it’s right to translate these powers to a card table.  So I do partake in poker, but to a reasonable extent.

J. Hillinger
Newport Beach, CA