I put my nose close to the keys and studied them. Then I looked around the room suspiciously. I was alone. "This is absurd," I said. "Who ever heard of a typewriter...." _WHAT'S ABSURD?_ I pointed my finger sharply at the machine. "And if you're so smart, why are you all in upper case? Suppose you tell me that!" _BECAUSE YOU LEFT THE SHIFT KEY LOCKED. IF YOU'D SIMPLY_-- I stabbed out with my finger at the shift release, and the carriage dropped abruptly. _unlock the shift ... ok, there, thats much better._ "You left out an apostrophe," I said meekly. _did i, well i cant very well shift of my own accord, you know. im afraid this will have to do._ I sat back and smiled, watching the machine as the words appeared. I kept smiling even after the carriage stopped moving. _whats so funny._ "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Nothing, really. I was just...." I spread my hand helplessly. "... just smiling." _it would be just my luck to get another idiot. as if the shopkeeper wasn't bad enough._ "I think I like you better upper case," I said. _do you._ "Yes. That way, at least, you've got the apostrophes and question marks. I find it difficult to follow you this way." _i imagine youd find it difficult to follow me any way. but shift again, if you must._ "Thank you." I stabbed out at the shift key, and locked it in place. _DON'T THANK ME. I'M JUST TRYING TO ESTABLISH SOME SORT OF RAPPORT BETWEEN US._ "Well, I certainly do appreciate your efforts. You are real, aren't you? I mean, it's not the salami or anything." _NO, IT'S NOT THE SALAMI OR ANYTHING. GOD, YOU ARE AN IDIOT, AREN'T YOU?_ I shrugged. "Not really. I'm not quite used to holding conversations with typewriters, though. I usually ... well, that is to say typewriters haven't usually answered me back." _ARE YOU A WRITER?_ "Well, yes. Odd you should have guessed, isn't it?" _THEN LET'S START WRITING. I'VE GOT SOME WONDERFUL IDEAS._ I smiled happily. "Well, all right. Let's. Do you want me to do the actual typing?" _OF COURSE. HOW ELSE WOULD I SHIFT?_ "That's right. I hadn't thought of it. Well, are you ready?" _QUITE._ "Good. I've got a lot of ideas, too." I hunched over the machine, beginning to enjoy this immensely now. I suddenly remembered that the paper already had writing on it, so I put in a clean sheet and said. "Let's see now, where should I begin?" I thought for a few moments, and then leaned over eagerly. I knew just what I wanted to type. It began with: _The day was crisp and clear, with the promise_.... I poised my fingers over the keys and smiled happily. Still smiling, I started to type. _Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,_ _Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore_-- "Oh!" I exclaimed. I stopped typing abruptly. _what is it now. and please lock the shift._ "Sorry," I mumbled. I locked the shift key. _WELL, WHAT IS IT?_ "Nothing. Except I ... I don't write poetry." _WHAT DO YOU WRITE?_ "Fiction. Yes, fiction."