Tshrimp! I flip a page in my book. A knotted dirty-golden lock falls in front of a word.


Zoom in. The. T-h-e. The. Printed in Times New Roman font in black ink on top of the page. The most overused word in the English language. Look. I’ve already used it five times just now.


Zoom in. T. Just the letter: T. Twelve little black specks form the letter. The book is written in 12 point font.


Zoom in. The first pencil-point of the letter T. Little colors make it up, the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, purple. All deceiving me into thinking the ink is black. Never could I be farther from accuracy.


Now zoom out. A book. 50,000 words. 250,000 letters. 600,000 little pencil-points. All in one book.


Zoom out. A house. And in that house, probably 100 books. That makes 5,000,000 words, 25,000,000 letters and 60,000,000 little pencil-points. One house. Do the math.


Now zoom out some more. A state, a country, a continent, the world. Earth. 6,000,000,000 people. Think about it. All those books, all those words, all those letters, all those little pencil-points, jammed into one computer screen, someday. And someday, when that computer screen fades away, when that computer dies, so will the books. So will those words. Just imagine.