She looks at me. Really looks at me, her eyes sweeping my face from my forehead to the tip of my chin and back again. For some reason I think of mathematics: adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing. I think about simple equations that solve a problem. I consider statistics, that means of collecting and interpreting data. A pursuit of surveys and experiments, a science but also an art.
Missy interrupts my metaphorical musing.
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1 comment:
The writing's fine. Cuts have to do with context, so hard to say from here.
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