Striking the Key

I hopped from the arm of the desk chair onto the wide oak writing desk, where a heavy black mechanical typewriter sat angled toward the window. Its nickel-rimmed keys rose in neat tiers like tiny stepping stones. Bracing my hands on my hips, I stepped my right boot dead center onto the round 'W' key and pressed down with all my weight. The metal arm beneath gave way with a satisfying clack as the slender steel typebar swung up and struck the dark ink ribbon against the roller. The carriage nudged sideways with a sharp click, ringing the miniature brass bell. I caught my balance on the spacebar, mighty pleased with the mark.