My finger rested briefly in the cool ring of metal and I felt this tiny shock. Images filled my mind of women carting around this beloved object, of writers creating their first novel. Stories popped into my mind of the janitor who was able to write award winning poems because he had used a special typewriter. In my mind I was accepting the Pulitzer prize. ‘How did you get such an amazing idea?’ they would ask. I would smile and rest my hand on the keys. ‘Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to let me get this man’s furniture out of my place?’ I blinked for a moment, the words slow to register in my brain. I wrapped my arms around that treasure and walked back to the cash register. I was afraid to put it down for fear I would lose the one chance I had at an exciting life. If I had known what that meant, I would have left it and never come back. He tried to talk me out of it. I don’t know if he knew or if he had another buyer. I steadfastly refused. It was mine and. Wanted it....I met...you...half way.......my god...I...kissed you as much as you kissed me! How am I ever going to face John and Patty after this?" I stood there thinking and then began to move around to her side of the island, but she suddenly looked up with a startled expression and began to move back. I stopped and rested against the far end of the island and she stopped along the side. She was close enough that I could reach out and touch her, yet far enough that she felt comfortable. "Eleanor...I wouldn't worry about John and Patty, they never need to know. It was just something that happened and it can remain with us" I said in an attempt to reason with her. God, Patty can't ever know about this! She didn't look at me, but said "Oh, Michael...I wish I could explain to myself how this happened! Nothing like this has ever happened to me.....I...I....just...." "Eleanor, I'm to blame." I said. "I got carried away. I can't really explain...you were standing there...and I was noticing.
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