Sunday--pursuant to my goal of getting my music and building back on track--I went down to my shop and spent 12 hours cleaning it up, so that I could actually get to the instruments sitting waiting my attention. By the time I was done, the huge 4 x 8 work bench in the middle of the shop was pretty much completely bare. I turned the lights off and left.
Tuesday was the next day that I went down into the shop. So I went down that evening looking for something, and I turned on the light, and this is what I found, right in the middle of the workbench:
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Sorry it's sideways. If you can't tell what it is: it's a small plastic bottle of Coke Zero with the cap smashed on it. And the cap was exactly sitting the way you see it here: not screwed on, not placed on top, but sitting on the top of the bottle with the two missing portions nestled down on the bottle opening. Here's a closer view of the cap:
The point is that the had pieces missing (looked kind'a like a hockey player's mouth) at let's say 9 o'clock and 12 o'clock, and the cap was sitting on top of the bottle with those two gaps holding it on the top of the bottle. I can think of no explanation other than that the cap was smashed down on top of the bottle so that the rim of the bottle knocked two sections out of the cap.
Which takes some force: those caps are strong. But the bottle was not only intact--no indications of any sort of crumpling--but there was still liquid in the bottle and none spilled anywhere. It seems pretty obvious to me that the force that it would take to jam the top down on the bottle in order to break the top would crumple the thin plastic of the bottle. But: nothing.
Now I don't believe in ghosts. And there are no tricksters in the house: just my wife (never in 35 years of marriage a practical joker), me (not yet crazy, I don't think), my Beagle and my Golden Doodle. No visitors (no corporal visitors, anyway) in the house or in my shop. My shop is down in the basement of my house. There's no access to the shop except through the house, and nobody's came to visit or went down into my shop on Sunday or Monday or Tuesday.
I'm a complete rationalist, so I know there's got to be a rational explanation. But it completely flummoxes me. Do any of you have any ideas? Because if not ... I may need some referrals to an exorcist.
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