I knew from the moment she walked in the store that she was my destiny. The quaint little stationary shop on main street was closing down, bought out by a new chain of computer stores. The day we first met was bright and warm, nothing that reflected my inner turmoil at the prospect of remaining unsold. My price tag reflected my loneliness; it had been slashed through again and again, yet I still remained in that dusty corner untouched.
She was the first to notice me. Her face dipping down, she wiped off the months of neglect. Her eyes examined me carefully. I sat as still as possible, hoping that she found no faults in the black metal casing or the round letter keys. My heart stilled as her hands rested on me; it was a weight that gave me comfort. Ever so delicately, she began to press the keys. A 'ding' rang out as she said her first words to me.
"Will you be my escape?"
(the typewriter)
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