Typewriter
Posted on: March 12, 2009
I’ve been listening to the New Yorker fiction podcast before going to sleep (easiest method, shuts those voices in my head right up) and now I want to write and read. So I’m reading “The Hundredth Man” (hundredth, hundreth, hundreadth) and I have a typewriter in the back of my mind. About 3 or so years ago my dad came home from a garage sale with a box he said was for my sister Abi. In the box was a typewriter. (I think they’re called electric typewriters or autopmatic typewriters cuz they have this little screen and this spell-check feature) Anyway we all used that typewriter and loved it even though we’d had a computer in the apartment since 2000 (or so). Our love for this machine was renewed when the ink strip ran out and my dad went looking for a new one and…they were so cheap!
With all the moving we’ve done, though, it has been placed in the Unpenetrable Closet In My Mother’s Room. So if I want it, I need to equip myself with some armor, like an umbrella and a helmet, and face The Moving Boxes. Until then I’ll have settle for typing things out on a computer boring and having typewriters dancing around in my head.
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