Love and a Typewriter
“Was that…extremely weird, or is it just me?” Anna turned to her companion with a raised eyebrow that she knew he couldn’t see and a quizzical inflection in her voice that she knew he couldn’t miss.
“Which part of it?” Lev’s smile creased his face beneath his dark glasses. “Learning we are characters in a story, or being asked to tell about it ourselves?”
“Either! Both?” Anna threw up her hands.
“She is a writer.” Lev shrugged as though nothing more needed to be said, and Anna rolled her eyes.
“In the year we’ve known each other, I don’t recall you ever asking your characters to announce something so that you don’t have to.”
“Ah, but I do not write fiction only. This is a difference.”
“And the whole finding out we’re characters in a story thing wasn’t the slightest bit unsettling to you?”
“I suppose no.” Lev cocked his head for a moment, then shook it thoughtfully. “The part of our story she has written turned out well, yes? I would not have existed—or met you—without her.”
“But—you don’t think it’s just a little freaky to find out someone else is directing everything that happens to you?”
“Life has not been easy for you, Anya.” Lev reached for her shoulder and let his fingers trail down her arm to squeeze her hand. “But we are never in control. In real life as in stories, there is always an Author directing things for good, even when we cannot see. It is a question only of whether we trust the author we are given.”
Some of the tension left Anna’s shoulders, and she drew a slow breath.
“And you trust her?”
“She trusts Him. This is enough. Besides—” He tapped a barely-visible earpiece with his finger. “HALEY has been reading to me from her website. You would like this kind of story, I think.”
“Wait, you brought HALEY?” Anna’s eyes went wide as a sudden squeak of consternation came from the open door next to them.
“Not for any set purpose, only I did not think to leave it.” Lev shrugged, but the corner of his mouth turned up in a grin as the shuffling of papers and clicking of keys in the office intensified. “What do you think she fears we will find?”
“Nothing!” The author’s voice was a bit too forceful, as though she was working to convince herself as much as them. “HALEY’s an AI language model, not a mind-reader, and I haven’t written down any of my ideas for a sequel yet. And it doesn’t exist in any of my other story worlds, so…” She let out a sigh as though finally believing her own words. “Fine. Use HALEY if you want. Just introduce yourselves, please!”
Anna’s lips twitched as she turned to the screen and guided Lev to face it with the slightest pressure on his arm.
“How will we know when it’s starting?” She glanced back over her shoulder, and a huff sounded from the office.
“It’s been on since you walked out there, but apparently everyone has to have a conversation about who I am and what I’m doing first. Which, fine, I don’t care, but you’re doing it in front of the entire audience!”
“Oh.” Anna’s cheeks flushed pink, but Lev seemed not at all embarrassed as he smiled into the darkness.
“Hello. We are Lev and Anna, as you already know unless this author is more terrible than we think. We are asked here to tell you of our story, which was published in February with twelve others in a collection called Seize the Love.”
“Our story is apparently called Wanted: A Typewriter.” Anna wrinkled her nose and glanced away, and Lev chuckled.
“You think it is not fitting?”
“I think it sounds weird.”
“It is what caused us to meet.” Lev’s smile softened, and Anna ducked her head.
“I know, but—didn’t she say the typewriter was her inspiration? How does a picture of an old typewriter turn into a futuristic story involving you, me, and HALEY?”
“She is a writer.” There was unmistakable conviction in Lev’s voice this time. “Who can say how a story grows as it does from its first spark, or why it takes one turn and not another? Our story is not usual, but it is sweet. And other stories in the book you may like as well. Love is not always romantic, and it shows itself in so many ways. I am happy that the collection shows this, and I love that we are part of it.”
“You love it, do you?” Anna’s voice turned playful, and Lev reached for her hand.
“I love many things, Anya. So many things…”
One of the nearest doors unlatched with a slight hiss, and Anna winked at the screen as she turned them toward it.
“I think that’s our cue to get out of here before we start spoiling too much. You’ll find the links you need below. And maybe you’ll see us around someday, but I wouldn’t dare promise what might happen in the mind of a writer.”
The door closed behind them, and the screen went blank.
