My wife asked me during dinner tonight if the story of two young local women who had gone missing this weekend had crossed my radar; it had not. Apparently they were found in the river today, still in their car. They haven’t been positively identified, but the clothes match and the car is registered to one of the pair.

And … damn. One of them looks very familiar, and both of the names sound familiar, but the ages don’t quite match up with when I was teaching– they would have been in middle school at least partially during my furniture years, I think, but that didn’t stop me from going through my yearbooks. Which neither of them were in. But I don’t have yearbooks from every year I taught, because there weren’t always yearbooks produced, and of course not everyone is there on picture day, and blah blah blah. So I can’t prove that either of them were mine, but any time I know anybody under 30 in this town five will get you twenty that it’s because they’re a former student, and they both ring way too familiar.

So naturally I spent an hour paging through yearbooks going “He’s dead … this one’s in jail … this one’s in jail too … also dead … murder victim … ” and now I’m not in the mood for really anything at all.