Where Do the Missing Go?

The following is an excerpt of a blog by a local resident and business woman reproduced as a community service of Coma News Daily.


Where Do the Missing Go?
Marybell Davis

When Mayor Dave Anderson me (ed: proprietor of Coma’s only private detective agency) to figure out the mystery of what happened to Don Johnson Michaels, former editor of Coma News Daily, it went sonething like this:
Mayor: Where’s this Don guy?
Me: Isn’t he dead? I thought there was a memorial service.
Mayor: No we just don’t know where he is, Marybell, and since the sheriff is lame we need the only private detective in town to solve this super important mystery.

And then my landlord, aka, Dad, was like, “Is this a paying job? You’re taking it, Marybell.”

So, here I am after months of really amazing investigations into the stuff that really matters in life but that don’t pay so well, having to take my first paying gig.

So, I pushed past the deep ick factor this guy Micheals put out when he was around and got serious for a minute.
What happened to Don Johnson Micheals and why did we have a memorial service and news reports about his supposed death if he isn’t dead?
These were pretty deep questions and I knew right away that I’d need the help of the internet.
First, I googled “what is death”– TIP– do NOT google that. Ever. And definitely don’t click the images. Gross.
So, then I thought maybe some other old, poet- people may have written something about death could help me find this guy.
Emily Dickinson popped up. Have you guys ever seen this lady? Weird selfie. She has a poem *BORING* called ‘After Great Pain, a formal feeling comes.’ I was so confused. A formal feeling? Like dressed in a tuxedo? Like “Hello, I am Mr. Pain?

This is Emily Dickinson in an early selfie with one of her friends. Her friend doesn't look happy at all probably because she is cold with a formal feeling.

This is Emily Dickinson in an early selfie with one of her friends. Her friend doesn’t look happy at all probably because she is cold with a formal feeling.

Luckily the poem is short and I liked this part:
This is the Hour of Lead –
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –
First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go

And then I got it because I took some english poem classes. Don Johnson Michaels and that horse he road off on are probably freezing in the snow because it’s like zero degrees in Coma.
I remember one time my boyfriend broke up with me and I stood outside his house for so long crying I got frostbite.

And I get it. After pain comes a formal feeling like frostbite. It hurts a lot.

I still am on the case of the missing dead editor but I’m going to count this as another mystery at least partially solved. If you miss someone and stand out in the cold for a long time watching them you are going to get frostbite. Emily Dick(gross)inson discovered that a long time ago and now we know it.

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