Rit tips ratty tat tat tatty tasty tip tip tat rung Kachin ring ring ring tip tip tip tip tip tap tap clap smack tat tat tat at at at rat lacking kaching ring ring tingle tap tap tap tap… the itchy sounds rattled around the chamber, to many to echo proper as the waves formed a massive depressive pressure over the secretaries and writers. Deep into their work, diving where no mortal forever flounders. In the land of make believe, far away on imaginations aisle. All ages may reach its lofty tops only to quickly find themselves launched into stratosphere while flying amongst a rare unknown species of migrant penguins. reaching out, ebbing knowledge leaked from inspired mind, the tribe of fingers dancing amongst the black painted steel keys, dirty titty tatty tat tat tat, kachung, ring ring ring click whoosh’s with a swirl of breeze, quickly licking then stamping stomp scatter and a little splatter, ink flies across the paper, jotted signature, jamming the envelope deep in a mail gutter. Seen, read, consumed, till reformed to travel the route of food to paper.