Transferable Skills

It was a struggle to lift it
onto the dining room table. I
could hardly believe it was called
an OLIVER typewriter: something be
tween a printing press and a mech
anical piano.

When the exercises got a bit
boring I learned to type "Once
upon a time" and "In the beginning
there were" thinking they may be
useful in the future.

So when Michelle threw the big office
typewriter in my direction I managed
to sort of catch it and shuffle it onto
a desk. She seemed even more angered by
that and shouted "I hate this fucking
place" - well the children's home
did have to get her up early and there
was a meeting with her alcoholic
mother that day. I shouted back "Well
tough luck because we fucking like you".

As I shouted it - but not as loud as
she had - it sounded a bit contrived to
me, but she gave me an odd look and
calmed down quite a bit.