Typewriters and Normalcies

"And so they lived Happily Eve...." She stopped typing, disgusted with the words that she had been typing. Frustrated, she grabbed at the paper, tearing it out of the typewriter, the corner tearing as the machine reluctantly gave up it's charge. A chuckle from the doorway made the author turn her head sharply, her glasses going slightly askew. Her brow wrinkled in annoyance, and she roughly straightened them out again.
"Still working on that old piece of junk, Kaera?" the young man standing in the doorway asked teasingly.
Kaera sighed. "Yes, Damian, I am. And it's not a piece of junk!" she added defensively. "You know as well as I do that it was Daddy's typewriter.... He willed it me." She ran her hand across the typewriter's keys fondly.
Damian's expression sobered as he watched his twin remember their father. He had died when they were both eleven --only eight years ago-- and Kaera, though older by fifteen minutes, had taken it the worst. Damian had never really cared for their father that much, because he thought that the old man had always tried to buy their love with toys and money. Being a famous author in both America and most of Europe, he was constantly away on book signing tours and the like. Kaera had always been more of a "Daddy's little girl"; their father had been so thrilled when she had shown him her first story. Damian, though....
He shook his head, trying to push old memories away, and looked up to see his twin staring at him with worry.
"Dam, are you ok?" Kaera asked.
"Yeah, Kae, I'm ok. But, seriously, you might want to get your head checked!" he put on a false smile, trying to hide his true thoughts from his sister.
"Why?" she asked, taken aback.
"Because you really need to update your style. Get a computer." Kaera just glared, and reached for a manuscript, chucking it at his head, jokingly. Damian ducked