Childhood longhand was a winding road of crossed teas and dotted eyes, pleasurable concentration. The teenage bold move-up to typewriters was pressing, manias forcing rapid words. There was Olympia and Underwood, but Olivetti was something else. Skyblue casing came from Renaissance painting, the keys cute as a Fiat. October essays, fomented letters, confetti poems generated from its perfect engine. Golfballs, memory, processing – inventions since could not displace our admiration. Computers did it for typewriters. The squat Apple box was too much temptation, even if today it’s a bad prop from Dr. Who. Typewriters became collectibles, curiosities for our children’s childhoods.