13 is an unlucky number. Likewise is 4 inauspicious, deadly even.
5 is a good number, divisible into two plus one left over, just in case. 5 is a prepared, good-natured number.
11 stands in solidarity, no matter what.
You cannot dispute the double happiness of 88. Go ahead and try it. You can’t! My parents refuse to even entertain the possibility. The impertinence of it!
Luck can certainly turn, which is why some buildings won’t officially have a 13th floor and some house numbers skip over 4, not like it doesn’t exist but because it does. And I wonder what people have done just to ensure they get 88, ignoring the possibilities of, say, 11 and good ‘ol number 5.
Poor 5, good-natured and underrated. It’s no 42, but it could be a contender, if only.
My second grade teacher, fresh from teacher’s college and seemingly only a few years older than myself (13, if not 4), reprimanded me harshly for crossing my 7s – adding that little dash (-) in the middle which made it, in my mind, a more robust, reliable number.
Not apparently so.
Crossing my 7s was rude, she said. It made the 7 into a bad symbol, one of hate and ignorance.
Did I want to be ignorant? Was I hateful?
Civil 7’s for her then; anything else was savage, uncouth. Not to be borne.
Poor thing. Some people can’t handle it, the numbers game. Life, etc.