THINK OF HOME

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You take a big breath.

"Of course they mean nothing to me!"

"I don't need the fortunes of things that aren't numbers. They're dumb and don't make any sense."

"People tell me they want to count their 'dreams', their memories, useless formulas that go nowhere.
I can't tell you your future. These abaci are built in ways that don't sense because it - it sells.
People want their silly ideas of reality such that you can count every root in the Wood
before they count any meaningful constant."

You cross your arms with finality.

"Listen, that's-- Just not important!"

You can't bear to look at her all of a sudden, under that heavy stare...

"I just want to make a business! It's my --" you falter -- "my only way... out. I need to impress
the Fiend before winter..."

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Click.

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Click.

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Click.

and how long was it?