The disco ball was turning. It would complete its revolution in 43.247 seconds. Just now, 100 times since he'd arrived. It had 1579 mirrored faces. That was a good number. Prime and a Fibonacci. Doubly good. Three tiny squares of mirrored glass were missing, showing the grey of the adhesive beneath. 


"What? Oh, square roots again." 

His brother smiled a sigh, then leaned nearer to combat the thunderous bass and the high pitched chatter. It wasn't enough. He had to shout over the music.

"I'm nearly done. Just a few more minutes, ok?"

He took the shrug as acceptance...

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I was mesmerized by the number of mirrors it took to cover the surface area. I began calculating in my head, when suddenly my arm was yanked forward by a woman wearing enough hair spray to suffocate the entire discotheque. Her smile was wide and gregarious and I counted the teeth exposed by her ruby red lips. She shouted something at me, leaning her head in a coy yet inviting manner. We stepped on the color-changing tiles and I estimated the surface area by counting the squares on the perimeter. The beat increased and my heart pumped faster to match....

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