My Archetypewriter is Electric
March 1st, 2009by Blank
BROOKLYN, NY -
I had my hood strategically draped over my ears as I headed towards Madison Ave. I typed and typed away, clickety clack as the keys jammed upon the ribbon in my mind’s eye, making an impression on the soft, kitchen sponge in my skull that I rely on so dearly for all of my minutiae, daydreaming and number crunching activities. I had just twisted from it every last drop of introspective moisture, no less than 22 stories above the very spot where I was walking, within the safe confines of my personal and paid-for private psychiatrist’s quarters.
