American Writers Museum Story of the Week for October 2, 2020

Story of the Week

The AWM is excited to bring you stories written by our visitors in our Story of the Day exhibit, which features typewriters that visitors can interact with directly, or our newest temporary exhibit, My America: Immigrant and Refugee Writers Today. Check back regularly for new stories, and visit the Museum to try out our regularly cleaned typewriters, see the exhibit, and possibly be featured here!


Untitled Poem

My words
my words
Buried above the clouds
Unreachable ether
screaming through tempest

My mind
my mind
Floating down. Further to reach me
Floating in the reflecting of the dreams
I once had
So long ago...

A Girl Named Mia by Renee Peiffer

Once upon a time in a land far away there was a girl named Mia. She was a very sassy child and would not eat her broccoli. One day her mother poured gross cheese sauce all over the broccoli in her anger at Mia for not eating it. Mia started crying and felt bad for making her mother so stressed out. So Mia decided to punish herself for her naughty behavior and decided she would take at least 2 bites of the awful cheesy broccoli mixture to make it up to her dear mother. She choked down the first bite and realized that it was the best thing that she had ever tasted. She didn’t tell her mother how amazing it was, she just kept eating it. Her mother started feeling horrible and begged for her to stop. She refused to stop and continued eating the cheesy broccoli until her mother was sobbing out of grief. Mia ate every bite of the cheesy broccoli and even tried to scrape up all the remaining cheesy residue to eat that too. Her mother was so proud of her for her obedience that she offered her an entire sheet cake. Mia ate that as well and then went straight to bed.

The End


The American Writers Museum

Walls full of writers, stories displayed and shared… I feel the frustration as the keys stick, ideas coming faster than my fingers can work the keys.

Composing at the keyboard makes so much more sense when I can hit backspace and not have to use a real-life eraser. As the keys stick, it makes it clear why the keys are laid out in a non-alphabetical format — to slow the speed while typing, to prevent collisions.

It takes me back to high school English, when my mother would so kindly help me to make the typewriter cooperate in those last hours prior to the deadline.

Similar to how I worry now about the computer blue-screening, then I worried that the ribbon would tear, the keys stick massively, or mom would have to cook dinner and leave me to fight the beast on my own!

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