I remembered going into the school’s storage room
at the beginning of the year
and looking at all those boxes of yearbooks stacked up so high,
covered in dust,
the years on their spines
moving from 1945 to the present…
I shut my eyes and tried to recall
every detail of the room:
the dingy window punctured with a beam of daylight,
chairs and desks red with rust, etched with graffiti,
and the door to the building…
The door had been marked with an S
and so had Lindsey’s key.
That same spiky S…
is this coincidence?