a keyboard - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The keyboard no doubt had once been the latest in technology, now its keys were hopelessly clunky. The only thing that could make them look good would be an old fashioned type writer, but then I guess you could argue that the latter is an antique and the former simply obsolete.
The keyboard that had once been a metallic silver was now covered in the dirt that clung to my greasy finger prints and dropped food. It looked more like it should belong to my three year old, in fact her toy computer was a good deal cleaner.
The keyboard was the kind of grey that could depress a baby. It had no beautiful blue undertone or metallic sheen. It was dirty and the letter “e” was missing entirely. It took rather too much effort to depress the keys and when she did so they clacked, not in the sharp way of a typewriter but with a cheap plastic sound.
In the darkness of the laboratory it was only the under-lit keyboard keys that glowed. It cast a light that seemed to just die inches from the machine, not illuminating anything useful.
The keyboard was entirely flat, it was more like typing on a table than the machines of old. They always had some give to the keys, like you were pressing a button. It let you know you had made contact, now it was just the feeling of something solid and cold under the finger-tip.
The keyboard was beamed onto the table top. It wasn't necessary to have a surface at all, apparently some folks could air-type. Jann wasn't into any of that fancy crap, he just wanted to get the job done. Plus the table gave him a place to put his coffee, they hadn't digitized that just yet.
The keyboard was one of those plug in kinds from last century, keys the size of tombstones and a trailing wire. Considering the size it was light but the smell was curious. Why did is smell of jasmine? Lila turned it over and over, examining it from every angle. It would be a shame to destroy an antique but she was sure there was something odd about it. There was something she was supposed to figure out.
Kayla looked at the keyboard, it was black with white letters. She pondered how many fingers had touched it and the possibilities of where those fingers have been. She didn't want to look like a freak but she was already plunging her right hand into her pocket for a packet of disinfectant wipes. No-one had to see, not if she was fast.