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“Here is the door of my mom's house, well-remembered childhood portal. Here is the yard, and a set of wires that runs from the house to a wooden pole, and some fat birds sitting together on the wires, five of them lined up like beads on an abacus.”
― Dan Chaon, Stay Awake

“We should do this on computer," she said, chalking it carefully for the eighty-ninth time. "With a drawing pad."
"Nonsense. You're lucky I don't make you inscribe it with a stylus on a wax tablet, like the old days," Myrnin snorted. "Children. Spoiled children, always playing with the shinest toy."
"Computers are more efficient!"
"I can perform calculations on that abacus faster than you can solve them on your computer," Myrnin sneered.
Okay, now he was pissing her off. "Prove it!"
"What?"
"Prove it." She backed off on her tone, but Myrnin wasn't looking angry; he was looking strangely interested. He stared at her for a second in silence, and then he got the biggest, oddest smile she'd ever seen on the face of a vampire.
"All right," he said. "A contest. Computer versus abacus."
She wasn't at all sure now that was a good idea, even if it had been her idea, essentially. "Um -- what do I win?" More importantly, what do I lose? Making bargains was a way of life in Morganville, and it was a lot like making deals with man-eating fairies. Better be careful what you ask for.
"Your freedom," he said solemnly. His eyes were wide and guileless, his too-young face shining with honesty. "I will tell Amelie you were not suited to the work. She'll let you go about your life, such as it is."
Good prize. Too good. Claire swallowed hard. "And if I lose?"
"Then I eat you," Myrnin said.”
― Rachel Caine, Midnight Alley

“Both Diogenes and Polybius spoke of men who sometimes stood for more, sometimes for less, like the pebbles on the abacus”
― J.M. Pullan, The history of the abacus