When I was a kid (many years ago), one of my teachers told our class about an experience that she had had.
She'd gone out to the shops late one afternoon with her shopping basket to get a few essentials. By the time she had obtained what she wanted it was dark, and she started her walk home.
It was a dark, misty, winter afternoon, with the only light coming from the few streetlamps that lay along her path. She admitted to us that she was already feeling a bit nervous at the mist and shadows and the emptiness of the streets. She wasn't too far from home when she heard a muffled footfall behind her. She turned around.. but no-one was there! She continued on her walk, but then there came that sound again, and again there was no-one to be seen. Quickening her pace there came a further flurry of these footsteps following her and she broke into a terrified sprint; all the way to her front door.
There, she paused as she fumbled for her front door key, and looking back at the way she had come, saw... a trail of slices of bread disappearing away into the darkness!
The wrapper of the loaf of bread that she had bought at the shop had come open at one end and what she had mistaken for footsteps were just slices of bread falling out of it to the pavement.