Sometimes truth is more unsettling than any horror novel. As a writer, I've always been drawn to unusual stories, but I never expected to become one.

It started last year, with a voicemail. A simple message that would spiral into one of the most bizarre experiences of my life – one that I'm now considering turning into a book. But before I tell you about my plans for the story, let me share what actually happened.

Picture this: an ordinary afternoon interrupted by a call from someone claiming to be a Colorado coroner. My wife, ever the voice of reason, suggested we verify the number. Smart move. The caller's number didn't match the official one on the state website.

In any other circumstance, this would be where the story ends – just another scam call, right? But here's where it gets interesting.
When we started digging, we discovered something unsettling. The coroner's office in Las Animas County was actually under investigation regarding multiple bodies being found in single graves.

The timing couldn't have been more eerie. Despite my skepticism, curiosity got the better of me. I called the official number, preparing myself for the moment of relief when a different voice would answer. Except... it wasn't different.

The same voice from the voicemail responded. It really was the coroner.
"Are you Randall J. Gregg?" he asked. When I confirmed, his response sent chills down my spine: "I know."

Then came the revelation that would make any fiction writer jealous: they had a body, a man in his sixties named Randall K. Gregg. In his phone, they found only one number saved – mine.
As a writer, I recognize the elements that make a story compelling: coincidence, mystery, the thin line between the mundane and the extraordinary.

This experience has all of them. The parallel names, the single phone number, the backdrop of an ongoing investigation – it reads like the opening chapter of a thriller.

But this isn't fiction. This happened. To me.
I've been turning this experience over in my mind, examining it from every angle. Should it be a mystery novel? A meditation on identity and connection? A exploration of how technology has made our world simultaneously smaller and stranger? The possibilities are endless, and that's exactly what makes it so intriguing.

What fascinates me most isn't just the coincidence – it's the questions this experience raises. Who was Randall K. Gregg? Why did he have my number? What invisible threads connect us to strangers we've never met? These are the questions I hope to explore in my book.

They say writers should write what they know. Well, I know this story. I lived it. And while I'm still working out exactly how to tell it, I know one thing for certain: sometimes the most compelling stories are the ones we don't have to make up.

What do you think? How would you tell this story? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below. After all, every writer knows that the best stories often emerge from conversations.