It was a dark, moonless night in 1995. Andy* was driving home from his girlfriend's house in Wauwatosa along Lisbon Rd. in Sussex when he thought he saw something ahead of him, up in the sky. There were no other cars on the street, as it was after midnight. The windows of his Ford Taurus were open, but he didn't hear the sounds of an airplane or helicopter propeller. Besides, this was still a fairly rural area, with the closest airports being about 8 miles from the location.
The item in the sky had a lit-quality, though there were no obvious lights. It seemed to hover, silently, out in front of the car. As Andy turned up Maple, the object stayed out in front of him, as if it knew his intent. This was back before drones littered the sky, though it could have been a remote-controlled vehicle of some sort. But Andy knew these tiny gas-powered marvels were loud. And he could tell this flying machine wasn't so tiny.
It moved fast, turning with him as he left Maple for Quail Run Lane. Andy was nearly home, but he felt as if he could be a million miles away at any moment. He wasn't a believer in UFOs, but something was there. A military experiment in suburban Milwaukee didn't make much sense, nor did what happened next. As Andy followed the object, which seemed to be no more than 100 yards out in front of his car, it accelerated at a speed that did not make sense to his human brain. One second. Gone.
In forty years of life, that's Andy's one and only story like it. The drones of today don't match. Nor do once-experimental airplanes and helicopters. The experience does not have a basis in our reality, yet it happened that one time in Sussex, Wisconsin.