Thoughts, no. 169
When someone reads out a phone number, they group it their way, and you read it back yours: threes where they said twos, a pair where they ran four together. For a moment both of you are less sure of it, though not one digit has changed. The digits were never the trouble. A number is held by its rhythm more than its figures, and you have just handed it back in a different tune.
Written at the house on .