Letters on the keys of a typical typewriter live for the click and the clack, they never worry about experiences or adventures that they may lack.
But Remington’s letters were struck with the idea that they should get up and get out, so the characters popped off for a walk down the block where they strolled into The Quaint Little Shop.
They passed knick-knacks and trinkets with nary a glance, tap-tapping to the section which always entranced - the books!
“Can I help you find something special?” Inquired the clerk.
“Doubt it,” sneered J, with a really big smirk.
“Pay him no mind,” said Y. “Yes, we’d love to see what’s new.”
“Here are little books that truly engage. They’re all the rage, look there’s a picture printed on every page.”
“Preposterous,” blurted I indignantly, “this book is absurd! No letters? No writing? Not even one word!”
“No!” gasped N.
“Why?” asked W.
C cried, P paled, Z zonked out and S flaked.
They felt more upset as the clerk turned each page.
V’s voice reverberated, “We have a choice! We can stand here and cry while we worry about why, but instead of being blue, let’s figure out what to do. And for that, we need A. We’re all looking to you!”
All eyes turned to A, whose opinion held sway. “It’s simple,” A said, “we’re on the outs and want in.” He saw their confusion, went on with a grin, “the answer is clear, it’s right underfoot.”
“But, but, but…” cried B.
“The books are complete!” said T.
“There’s no way,” said K.
Looking at their deflated demeanors, A stood tall, stomped the ground, pointed straight down.
M got it, “Oh!”
Q quipped, “Yes, I forgot that was so!”
F, G and H huddled together. “We don’t get it,” they cried.
“It’s obvious,” said O.
Another caught on and exclaimed, “Look down where you stamped, see, X marks the spot!”
“My foot left a D!”
All squealed with glee, outlining their very own names for anyone to see.
The Quaint Little Shop sold pads of ink in any color you could think. “These pigments are just like the ribbon at home! Grab a pad, find a surface, and make it your own.
Soon wrappers were flying in an alphabet melee, letters grabbed little books to brand in their way, shifting between upper and lower cases, the joy of writing all over their faces, dipping and stomping and dipping some more, pictures were scattered all over the floor.
Everyone found an image to imprint with script, “Much better,” laughed L as he did a backflip.
But G felt guilt strike. “What have we done? We got our way, but maybe the clerk has something to say.”
They looked, he pointed.
E elbowed R who reddened, confused - but U understood when she saw: Children had been watching the show while the alphabet utterly lost control.
And those kids bought all the books that the letters had stamped - even the ones with the pages still damp!
“After an experience so fun and unique, I’m renaming the store Alphabet Boutique.”
The letters return from the Remington each week, their friends - numbers and punctuation have joined in on the fun. Creating books for the kids is job number one.
The whole alphabet learned something great about books: You go where books are and you take a good look. There’s something for you somewhere up on the shelf, if there’s nothing you love, you can write it yourself.
Copywrite 2022 Sheila Path-McMahon
I am a teacher, an editor, a playwright, and an author. I have decided to share stories here on my blog - some of them are just for fun, some are stories that I am working on illustrating, and some are works in progress. One of my goals as a writer is to bravely post my stories without waiting for, say, a decade to work up the nerve. Thank you for reading!! If you enjoy any of my stories, I would love it if you leave a comment.