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Hello, are you ready for another uncanny mini-case? This one comes from Kate, who wrote to me to say,

Hi, Danny. It was the summer's evening, and my mum and dad were driving in their convertible

triumph herald to their favourite restaurant in Canterbury.

As they went past a cottage that they'd driven past many times before, my mother, who was driving,

exclaimed, oh my lord, it's burned down. My father said, you're imagining things, it's fine.

Mum immediately braked, backed up and stopped outside the cottage, and there it was, as right as rain.

She said to my dad that she'd definitely seen that the cottage had burned down,

and described it to him and said there was a big roof rafter hanging diagonally across the house,

and the whole place was smouldering and blackened.

Dad was a bit shaken because she was so sure, yet the place was clearly

absolutely fine. A few days later, my dad bought a copy of the East Kent Mercury newspaper,

as he often did. And there was a story about the very same cottage burning down and a photo

exactly as my mum described it.

Mum always reckoned she had somehow momentarily travelled in time.

Funnily enough, I remember her saying adamantly,

I know what I bloody well saw.

Thank you so much, Kate. Do we feel her mom experienced some kind of time slip,

had a premonition,

or is it just a bizarre coincidence, some sort of glitch of the brain that happens to come true?

Email me. Uncanny at BBC.co.com.