(An exerpt from "Diary" (Chapter) June 23, pg 6):
A woman calls from Seaview to say her linen closet is missing. Last September, her house had six bedrooms, two linen closets. She's sure of it. Now she's only got one. She comes to open her beach house for the summer. She drives out from the city with the kids and the nanny and the dog, and here they are with all heir luggage, and their towels are gone. Disappeared. Poof.
Bermuda triangulated.

(Real life example):
I had just gone over to the DJ to request "Brighter Than Sunshine" as a slow dance song for Miranda and myself. But when I got back to where we had been standing in the center circle of the gym floor she wasn't there. She had Bermuda triangulated.

I've been jabbed