Numbers (List off the calculations)

The longest words that do not repeat a letter count at fifteen units; it takes twenty-seven days to get rid of a bad habit; In Jewish faith, there are righteous, there is kindness, all starting with thirty-six; the year forty-nine A.D started on a Wednesday; as a child, my mother had a print-out of the ten commandments on our refrigerator door, held by a Tecate magnet. She had them when times got rough, this tear-soaked, angst-saturated piece of parcel remained even when I didn’t, when I got that first ticket out of home, out of the soul-crushing black hole of this death-pit home. I returned like some fifteen-eleven-thirty two tale, and it had shuffled from magnet to wall, watching the kitchen table, mourning family meals it would never oversee; Mom kept that thrice- damned printout and she keeps it up like some twelve step addict trying to find the light in her life through some misguided list, as if that can save her. I love you, I want to say, but honey, it’s twenty-three years too late; you’re 59 years passed the time of prayers, love; there’s no salvation for people like us