Gemotions

The parcel was plain, the address scrawled in an untidy hand: "Mr. Thomas Harding." Amelia, a recent transplant to the apartment, felt no obligation. It had arrived just as she was considering finally beginning that novel she'd always dreamed of writing. She decided to keep it.

The box contained a typewriter, old but in pristine condition. She set it up immediately. The keys clicked, the paper fed, and the words began to flow. She felt a power, a momentum she didn't know she possessed. The hours melted away.