The notebook was black. No name. No markings. Just page after page of observations about people. Tiny habits. Nervous routines. Private moments nobody should have noticed. When substitute teacher Daniel Mercer finds the notebook inside an empty classroom desk, it feels harmless at first. Strange maybe. Uncomfortable. But harmless. Then he finds entries about himself. Things nobody should know. At first the notebook describes the past. Then it begins describing things before they happen. And the deeper Daniel reads, the more obsessed he becomes with discovering who wrote it… and how they seem to know him so well. This week on The Unremarkable... some obsessions don't begin with answers. They begin with being noticed.

If you enjoy mysterious storytelling rooted in real events, you may also like my other podcast, Dead Notes, where music history and mystery collide. Listen here: Dead Notes

I produce these shows independently in my spare time. If you'd like to support what I do and help keep it going, you can do that here: Buy Me a Coffee

Helen Marsh was thirty-six years old when she first noticed the man across the street. Grey jacket. Completely still. Looking directly at her. She told herself it meant nothing — cities are full of strange moments, and strange moments usually pass. This one didn't. It led her back through eleven years of photographs, then fourteen, then further. And what she found in those backgrounds, at the edges of those frames, changed the way she understood every ordinary day she'd ever lived. This week on The Unremarkable... some things have been watching for a very long time. You just haven't known where to look.

If you enjoy mysterious storytelling rooted in real events, you may also like my other podcast, Dead Notes, where music history and mystery collide. Listen here: Dead Notes

I produce these shows independently in my spare time. If you'd like to support what I do and help keep it going, you can do that here: Buy Me a Coffee

What if your body already knows how the worst moments of your life will happen? Clara begins experiencing brief, precise flashes; she can't explain moments where she moves before anything goes wrong. At first, it feels like instinct. But the pattern becomes harder to ignore, and what once felt like intuition begins to feel like something else entirely. Because these aren't warnings. They're memories from a version of the day that didn't go as planned.

If you enjoy mysterious storytelling rooted in real events, you may also like my other podcast, Dead Notes, where music history and mystery collide. Listen here: Dead Notes

I produce these shows independently in my spare time. If you'd like to support what I do and help keep it going, you can do that here: Buy Me a Coffee