Paper Rings and Diner Coffee
The faucet leaked once every twelve seconds. Mia Kowalski counted. She didn't mean to — she just happened to be sitting at her kitchen table with a mug of coffee that was already lukewarm and a graph-paper budget in front of her, and the sound of the drip from the sink faucet had been going for twenty-three minutes, which meant exactly one hundred and nine drips, which meant exactly nine point...
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