[Intro]
Mug says THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AN EMAIL.
Browser open, coffee going stale.
Eight fifteen. I hit refresh.
Nobody asked. No one to impress.

[Verse 1]
Coffee cooling by the screen,
sports took forty-three percent of homepage clicks.
I write the figure on the page,
check it twice. It hasn't changed.
Leo sees me hit refresh.
Looks over. Says nothing.

[Chorus]
Ben starts counting, apparently.
Fine. Don't make a thing of it.
Forty-three, twice checked, in ink.
That's the fact. Now tell me what you think.
Use the number. Argue what it means.
Those are still two different things.

[Verse 2]
Sports desk wants to lead with this.
I tap the page. "You're gonna miss
the part where forty-three held steady.
Use it, sure. Don't dress it up."
I slide the pad across the table.
"Count is solid. Claim's debatable."

[Break]

[Verse 3]
Leo says the pattern's plain.
I say, "Careful, that's a claim."
A count can show where people went;
it cannot tell you their intent.
So yes, I brought the number in.
No, that doesn't settle it.

[Chorus]
Ben starts counting, apparently.
Fine. Don't make a thing of it.
Forty-three, twice checked, in ink.
That's the fact. Now tell me what you think.
Use the number. Argue what it means.
Those are still two different things.

[Bridge]
I leave forty-three on the page.
Circle it once, cross out "proof."
Sara's already on the next item.
I keep the pencil in my hand.
It earned a place in the argument.
That's all it earned.

[Outro]
Mug gone cold. Meeting over.
Browser still where I left it.
One more refresh.
Still objecting. Still checking.

[End]