The tallier sits at his desk and calculates. There is something magical about working with numbers and quantities. This one did this, that one did that. And he discovers that This One jumped from a window, and That One expired tragically under the wheel of a transfer truck. It’s a game that digits play: to hide their real meaning, what quantities they truly stand for, until the time is ripe. Numbers are tricky bastards, he thinks. He closes the spreadsheet, turns off the lights, and walks home, cherishing the night air, for he knows what he will eventually be: a digit.
– Wade Redfearn
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