The enchanted typewriter

In a rather small and unusual town,there was a typewriter quite different from most but known by many, it was known by the people as the 'Enchanted Typewriter'. Rumours spread that this typewriter wasn't a normal type of typewriter at all, it looked normal and sounded normal but to the people it could weave stories into the night skys . It wasn't in need of paper, but was able to merge it's creations into reality itself. This Typewriter was old,an old relic as some have described, with a shiny body and sharp white keys with a gloss painted over the top reflecting beautifully under the sun. The Typewriter sat in a small quaint room,inside the little antique shop,perched on a wooden desk in the corner of the room.

One day a small,gentle boy names Sam, with soft brown hair and rosey red cheeks, with eyes as blue as the sea,visited the peculiar antique shop eyeing down all of the treasures and strange objects. Sam showed little interest to anything else in the shop other then the Typewriter, who the owner claimed he felt a strong connection to. Sam was dressed in a light blue button up shirt and jeans, he would spend most evenings after a long day of school browsing through the shelf, dreaming of stories he could create and friends he could make through his wonderful character ideas.One crisp evening as the sun was setting and the sky was caked in beautiful reds and oranges, Sam's little fingers danced across the typewriters keys, moving gently and swiftly whiles barely making a sound. Suddenly, all grew quite, the last but of light from the sky had faded and a beautiful shimmering light appeared from all angles of thr typewriter. The Typewriter had begun to write on its own, not just on paper no doubt but also into the air, weaving a tale of magic and wonder.

When the last words the Typewriter wrote had formed into the air, the soft shimmering glow had faded and the Typewriter fell silent. The room was now left against the battle in the warmth of the setting sun. However, Sam and the few other customers inside the shop who witnessed the marvelous event,knew that something truly magical had occured.

Days had passed, the people of this small unusual town had began to notice small, enchanting changes. Flowers now bloomed more vividly then before, the river filled with pure, clear water and the air hummed with a gentle magic. It was almost as if the story woven by the Typewriter had seeped into the very fabric of the town.The town was beautiful, everybody was in love with it. The streets where busy and there was wonderful music playing everywhere,it was such an amazing sight.The magical typewriter became a legend to all, a symbol of the towns unique charm and the magic that lived among its people,in the soft crisp air. Sam,with his newfound friend, the Typewriter, continued to craft amazingly beautiful stories that brought a touch of enchantment to the world around them.

Chapter 1

Diary of the enchanted Typewriter: Entry one-The calm before the storm

Dear diary,Today I woke in a cozy room inside a small antique shop, the kind that whispers tales through its treasures. Ones from years ago, others from even longer into the past.Im an old typewriter myself, still looking brand new with a ravens black coat of paint and a fine gloss to finish,gleaming in the morning light that peaks in through the small window in the corner of the room for a few hours a day.The small shops with its ancient wooden beams and dust ridden shelves, seemed like such s calm and relaxing resting place for such a relic as myself.

A small little boy came in Today, they called him Sam. He's got a head full of hair and sharp blue eyes full of curiosity. When he looked at me I noticed a spark of interest in his eyes as if he could see the stories I've witnessed. I must admit I have seen many in my time, but there is something about Sam that makes me think he's not just any old visited. He's special.

This evening,under the warm of the setting sun, Sam sat before me. His fingers danced gracefully upon my keys and I calming jolt of electricity. The room filled with a shimmering light, and I began to write,not on paper,but in the air. It was almost as if I was weaving a magical spell, a magical tale that seemed to come alive before my very typewriter eyes.The fine people of this town are talking about the changed that they have see! The flowers are now brighter and smell beautifully, the river now clearer and filled with water, and there is a gentle hum of magic in the crisp air. It's almost as if the story that I wove has seeped into the very essence of this unusual town. I wonder if they realize that it was just a typewriter, an old relic like myself, that brought about such enchantment.

People say that I'm a legend now, the enchanted typewriter, who would have known? I've become more then a Typewriter to them but a symbol, a symbol of this towns unique charm and it's unique magic? Sam continued to create his stories and each one formed as a thread in the tapestry of this small towns History. I'm merely just a Typewriter, but perhaps in this world of ours, even the simplest of objects and tools can hold great power and become something so wonderful, you become cherished for the rest of the time you are with them. As I sit here pondering my thoughts in the small, safe room of the antique shop, I wonder my role in this world. I am just a Typewriter but I have seen the joy that I can bring and the magic that I can weave. although it is a heavy burden to bear, I still embrace it. For in the end of ones story it's not about the tool or the objects,it's about the magic and how one chooses to embrace it themselves. I will continue to Type and the magic will flow through it.