Could certain paranormal encounters be glitches in reality or time slips?

On a rainy Thursday evening, I was waiting for the train at the old Westbridge Station. It was nearly deserted, just a few flickering lights, the hum of vending machines, and the distant whistle of a delayed express.

I glanced at the watch: 8:42 PM.

Suddenly, a soft voice behind my back said, “Excuse me, sir… do you know when the 8:15 to Langford departs?” I turned to see a man dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, a crisp white shirt, and a hat straight out of the 1950s.

I blinked. “There hasn’t been a train to Langford in years. That line closed in the '70s.”

He looked confused, his face paling. “But I just bought my ticket from the booth.”

I followed his gaze, but the booth he pointed to had been boarded up for decades.

Before I could say more, a loud screech echoed down the tracks. I turned for only a second, but when I looked back, the man was gone. No sound. No trace.

Security footage later showed I was speaking to thin air.

Was it a ghost? A time traveler? Or a glitch of two timelines brushing against each other for a moment?

No one ever figured it out. But I never returned to Platform 6 again.