Weirdness Magnet

I work at a school where there are a number of adjunct professors. (All of whom are badly paid, unfairly treated, overeducated, and under appreciated, but that is another Grand Mystery of the Unexplained, which at this time we will not explore)

On my way into the library this Tuesday to meet with my students, I saw one of my fellow adjuncts, an art history professor. She was about ten feet away from me as I lumbered on past, my arms filled with books. I said, "Hi, Anne!" but I presumed she did not hear as she did not acknowledge my greeting.

I went on with class, and afterward, went back to the office shared by the adjunct pool. It was deserted. Typically, there are at least three to seven of us in there at one time on the days when I am working, and I thought it was odd. I graded some essays in the quiet.

About two hours later, another of my fellow adjuncts appears, in an agitated state. I am about to leave to get the key to my classroom, when she accosts me.

"Oh my God! Have you heard?" she stares at me, wide-eyed.
"No, I haven't. About what?"
"You'd better sit down."
I do so.
"What happened?" I ask.
"You're not gonna believe this. Anne's dead!"
"What? Anne the Art History professor? Blonde, sits up there?"
"Yeah! They found her this morning."
"But--"
"She died sometime over the weekend."
"But I just saw her in the library. Today."
"Today? "
"About two thirty."
"That is--you are--so weird."