Ae9 10-11-12

Walking through the halls of a big school. It feels like Evergreen even though it looks more like Renton High. There's some sort of big event going on like graduation.

Many people are there, but few notice me, except those who see the typewriter I carey around. One person talks about being a writer and uses the term "webster" "funny, the typewriter I almost got was called a Webster [true in WPR ] -- I compare it to the one I have right now, which has a different name than Smith Corona, something else that implies a destiny of writing.

I set it down hoping to explore the higher halls, away from all the people, but I find nothing but empty classrooms and a nice view of the outside world through the windows. I come back for it and the lid's cracked, which frustrates me and makes me nervous, but I know I could just tape it up and maybe reinforce it, and it'll still work fine.