Short Story: Numbers

My Father was born when the sequel to the World War was declared.

I was born during black and white TV.

I grew up whilst being raised by the Saturday morning cartoons.

I moved while denouncing the hair and inviting the speed.

My adulthood bloomed during the last death spasm of the newspaper.

I was married during the impetus of the internet café.

My child was conceived before, but was born after our new holy war.

I hate numbers.

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