Hello and welcome back to Monday Mail Time on the Paranol Activity podcast with the producer Dom,

where we dive into your experiences and your stories.

So without further ado, let's dive into the mailbag for our first story of today's episode.

This comes from Daniel.

I want to share something that stayed with me for a few years.

Something happened at my grandmother's old house in Sheffield. When she passed away, my family spent a weekend clearing out her

things. It was an ordinary, semi-attached house on the 1930s, creaky floor balls, narrow stairs,

nothing out of the ordinary. The kind of place that smelled faintly of furniture, polish and old

paper. On the second afternoon afternoon my mum asked me to go

up to the attic to check for any boxes we'd missed. It wasn't a spooky attic, more of

a small storage space with proper flooring on a window facing the street. But as soon as

I climbed up, I noticed to smell. It was strong and unmistakable. Lavender and pipe smoke, my

granddad sent. He died ten years before my nan and no one in the

family smokes anymore. I froze for a moment thinking maybe an old box had been opened. But then

something odd happened. The smell moved. It drifted past me, not like air from an open window. It

had direction. It wrapped around me for a few seconds and then I heard

the faintest sound, not breathing, not footsteps, more like fabric brushing against wood.

I turned and a small trinket box that had been closed on the shelf was now sitting open. Inside

was a dried sprig of lavender, the kind my nan used to tuck into drawers. I called

down to my mum and when she came up,

the centre completely gone. She looked at the box and went pale. She told me she packed that

away after the funeral and she hadn't opened it since. I can't explain really what happened that

...