Elizabeth_r - Experiment 2 lyrics

Exercise 1: I watched from her bed as she turned to the adjacent desk, grabbing a muted mint green case by its cream handle with two cream rectangular bu*tons on either side of it. She set the case on the bed before joining me, sitting cross-legged as she pressed the two bu*tons simultaneously. The top of the case popped off, revealing one of those old-fashioned electric typewriters, baring the same muted mint color as its lid. She trailed her fingers absentmindedly over the keys as I marveled at the antique. There was what appeared to be a silver ruler of sorts at the base of the machine that also had “Corsair Deluxe” printed along it. A shiny silver lever jutted off the left side of this. Directly underneath that was a long, slender, black cylinder that looked as if it were made of rubber, but I had at least enough prior knowledge to know it was called the “ribbon.” Attached to that was a set of several silver springs, that I a**umed must correlate with the keys below it. At the base of the entire contraption was four rows of cream, circular keys that was headed by the “Smith-Corona” emblem. I almost missed the space bar, easily blending in with the bottom of the typewriter--as it was the same color as the rest of the machine. “The platen is where the paper goes in,” she informed me, pointing to the silver part that I had mistook for a ruler. “These,” she began, pointing to knobs on either side of the platen that had once been cream in color but had now been stained by ink, “are what I use to adjust the paper to the place I want to begin typing.” She loaded a piece of hemp paper into the platen, adjusting it with the knobs quickly. Suddenly her fingers began to fly across the keyboard, as she typed with urgency. As she pounded each key, the corresponding spring hit the ribbon with vigor, printing letter after letter across her increasingly filled paged. With each ping sound, she quickly pushed the lever to its proper place and began again with flourish. This machine gave me insight into her world; I watched her pa**ions unfurl while gaining a better sense of understanding of what brings a person to write. Exercise 2: The photo I am describing is one I took while walking through the city of San Francisco this past March. It is a profile shot that I had quickly snapped on my phone without Corey noticing. While he is looking across the street, he has a slight smile upon his face. The optimism that radiates from him on a near constant basis can always be seen by this natural upturn of his lips. I had tucked a wild daisy behind his slightly gauged ear shortly before taking the photo; even when he at first protested good-naturedly, he gave in without much of a fight. This in mixture with his black backwards hat and white “Bring Me The Horizon” tank top could seem a bit contradictory to some; to me it perfectly captures his sensitivity and desire to keep me happy, no matter how silly my request. Though his eyes are partially blocked by a pair of overzealous blue aviators, you still able to see the anticipation of what he is about to see and learn in his face.