Gemotions

The old typewriter sat on the kitchen table, its keys dusty and slightly sticky. Emily stared at it, a wave of a feeling washing over her. The typewriter held the article, the words of which had appeared in print under another name.

She remembered the rhythmic click-clack of the keys, the smell of ink, the feeling of being fully immersed in her thoughts. That was back when she felt alive. She felt a connection to the typewriter.

She sat and placed her fingers on the cold keys. The years of bitterness and disappointment melted away, replaced by something else. She took a deep breath, and began to type a new piece.

She was surprised, but a slow smile of contentment spread across her face. The words flowed out of her with an ease she hadn't felt in a long time. She was coming home.