"I simply do not appreciate any mathematical endeavour. I apologise."

click. bzzzt.

Lights please. With a smooth flick of your index finger, the fluorescent tube oscillates into life

I am desperate for her answer.

ka-ching. deeeeaaal or ...

You stumble onto the couch, and chew through the channels, settling at Deal Or No Deal.

"You know I don't... believe in all your statistics and differisation or whatever. Life is not a composition of numbers."

whoooo! NO DEAL!

Even when you know how it irks me, when you airily dismiss m—

"And by the way, don't you dare give me that spiel about dismissing your goddamn field. I've-heard-that-enough-times-thank-you-very-much!"

It tends to be the loudest shouts that procure the quietest silences.

And now, Angie, the odds are in your favour.
Bank offer of \$20,000, three briefcases still up for grabs.
What's it gonna be, Angie? Deal? Or no deal?

You lean forward. On edge. Tension.

"I swear to God, if she accepts that twenty-thousand dollars..."

The chance of obtaining more than \$20,000 by playing to the end in Deal or No Deal is nineteen point two percent.

The chance of a contestant attempting to do so at this time is eighty point five percent.

I remain silent, of course. It would be foolish to interrupt her now, as the program has mesmerised her; she will be unreachable for some time now, I imagine.

It's a NO DEAL, ladies and gentlemen!
We'll be back after the break to find out!

The human senses are wired logarithmically, while time is linear. This means that certain events that happen in a slow, linear fashion appear to happen exponentially. Instantaneously, almost. There are no comprehensive lists, but a few moments are undeniably part of this phenomenon. Solving an abstract mathematical problem. Falling in love. Ideas.

"Kath?"

sigh. eyes lift. slowly. weary. wary.

"Kath, do you remember, when you were running down Sixth Avenue, past the florist's and in front of the train station? Do you remember that?"

twitch on the ears.

Lovely. I have hit it.

"Remember, you needed to catch the eleven thirty North Ryde train to get to work, because your alarm clock died, because you hadn't changed its double-A batteries in three months?"

twitch.

"Remember, when you walked up to an oh-so-scary complete stranger, and asked me the time?"

twitch.

"What time was it, Kath?"

shudder. sob. glassy eyes.

"eleven twenty-four"

breakdown. waterworks.

I really have to stop doing this.