It was a calm dusk in Calgary when I noticed something unusual in the sky—an ethereal blue-white shape, changing form in a way that defied explanation. At first, it appeared as a flat oval, almost blimp-like but without any fins. Its contours seemed to shift, growing flatter and then elongating subtly before it vanished in the blink of an eye. There was a faint aura, an almost tangible haze surrounding it, as if the object was cloaked in mystery.
What struck me most was the sensation — a chilling feeling that this presence knew I was watching, almost as if it was concealing itself, aware of my gaze. Unlike a falling star, it didn’t streak across the sky; it hovered in place, then simply disappeared without a trace.
Afterwards, I noticed unexplained marks on my body, a physical reminder of this strange encounter. The fleeting nature of the event, combined with the shape-shifting form and the eerie sense of being observed, left me questioning everything I thought I knew about the skies above Calgary. This was no ordinary light or natural phenomenon—it was something far more enigmatic, an experience that lingers in memory like a half-remembered dream.