By Tiffany Fussell
She woke up, her hair tousled in a flyaway bun, for the dreams she had kept her on the move.
Her recent lover whispered cryptic words in her ear while she rode in a Jeep without a seat belt all the way to Los Angeles. Her dog had become twice his size; he’d slobbered on an enormous grey bone while she’d packed that afternoon. And her husband kept asking why she had put her writing desk in the middle of the bedroom.
She felt at ease and gazed at her old Underwood friend.
“So I won’t forget my dreams,” she said.
I have a 60’s model Royal office manual typewriter in my computer room, Tiffany, to remind me of my dreams. I don’t use it much anymore, but often gaze at it…remembering how it felt to tap on the keys and hammer out words before the Age of Computers. Your story brings back memories . . . Good job.
I bought an old Underwood when I was a teenager for fifteen bucks at a rummage sale. It was such a romantic symbol of writing for me. I used to stare at it and daydream quite a bit.
Glad you liked the story.
Thanks for the feedback.