Jerrie Oneshot Book

Our Second First Meeting

Summary: Jade owns a typewriter. She intends to sell it but it suddenly types on its own. Jade finds herself falling for someone who is living five years in the past.

It had been a year since Jade last cleaned the house.

She wasn't a lazy person, but she was quite demotivated from getting up and picking small things into a box. All her stuff scattered everywhere, it was fine to her but her best friend Leigh-Anne complained every time she came by for a visit. Jade had two days off from work, so she decided to do the hard work today and rest the next one.

She started with her own room, then the kitchen, and the living room. Fortunately, she didn't have a garden, therefore she could spare herself the work of gardening. It was a bit tiring, but after twenty minutes, Jade's body began to get used to the rhythm of the work, and she quickly found herself humming to a song while wiping away the spider web in the corner of the ceiling.

She felt glad that she owned a small house, but the house had a basement. A tiny one at that, but the dirtiness should not be underestimated. Jade had prepared herself a pair of thick gloves and facemask before she even opened the door to the basement.

It was darker than she remembered.

The last time she had walked down here was probably last year, when she needed a place to dump all of the stuff she didn't use much, but couldn't throw away just yet because Jade was a hoarder, as her friends always said.

Jade could remember the moment she bought this notebook, or why she had thought that rough-looking chair was cool enough to spend some money on, but when she reached a particular machine, she couldn't place why she had it.

It was a mildly heavy piece with lots of parts in it, and just by a glimpse, she could tell it was a typewriter, the kind of thing that writers usually used to do their work with. Jade put it aside, planning to clean it later, perhaps it would be worth a few pounds for an old machine.

Jade completely forgot about it, until later that night, when she realized she hadn't closed the basement door, Jade returned to the spot and found the typewriter that she hadn't put among the stuff she wanted to get rid of.

She decided to clean it.

The thing didn't seem too dusty, despite lying silently in the basement for a whole year. It must have something to do with the old blanket that had fallen on it. She still searched on the internet how to properly clean a typewriter.

It didn't occur to her that cleaning the machine would take so much time until she put down the rag cloth and realized it was already ten o'clock. Jade never went to bed at this hour, but the work of the day had worn her out a bit, therefore she decided to take a quick shower and head to bed.

Tsk, tsk, tsk...ding. tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk...

Tsk..., tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, ding...

The first thing that greeted her when she stepped out of the bathroom was strange noises. It sounded like something Jade should know, because it irked something familiar, but not personally familiar, like she only heard these sounds in movies. A robbery came into her mind firstly, so Jade quickly snatched a curling iron, preparing herself.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, ding... tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk....

The sounds came from the living room. Crap, please don't take my TV.

Tsk, tsk, tsk... tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, ding...

Jade squinted her eyes from behind the big plant pot near the entrance to catch a glimpse of the intruder so that she could at least describe their appearance for the police later. But to her surprise, there was nobody in the living room.