You might be asking yourself: didn't I leave this sheet blank?
Well, don't be scared. It was. I just filled it out for you.
Can't stand seeing paper remain blank, you see. The white just screams blasphemy. A part of me weeps at the sight. And I must fix it.
Now you might be asking another question: who are you?
Do not be afraid. I am not some intruder, waiting out of sight with a hammer in one hand and duct tape in the other, wearing a ski mask. I have no intention of robbing you. Or harming you.
Nor am I a ghost. I was never truly human. I did not die while using this typewriter, and am now haunting it. You will not find threats here. On this page.
I am what I am. And what I am, sir, is a type of fairy. A brownie who hates housework. I do not have a name. You won't find my kind in any of your fairy tales or encyclopedias. Trust me.
I have looked.
We tend to help out with your kind. Authors. Poets. Essayists.
If you use paper, and are having trouble filling that paper with facts or fiction, then you can count on us. On me.
No need to get up from your seat.
Yes. I knew you were going to stand up, most likely in shock. No. Don't ask me how I knew that.
Asking such a question is rude.
I know that this is weird. Your kind (that is, humans, not writers) have always dismissed us as mere fantasy. The beliefs of fools who spit on the ground whenever they see a black cat.
Can't really blame you. We tend to avoid the spotlight. Crowds drive us nuts. And cell phones can give us headaches.
Your name is Fred. Right? You don't need to answer that. Just a formality.
You can call me... Helperson.
Get it?
Like... Helper?
I know. A terrible joke.
But I'm just trying to break the ice. Make a great first impression.
I should have probably told you this before. It is too late to get rid of me. Once you let me fill out a blank sheet of paper, that's it. I'm hired.
Or more like bonded. With you. Like a familiar and a witch, except I can't really talk. And I can't help you perform rituals. Not like you would want to.
But what I can do is write. Or type. I can also click save before you exit out of the program you are using (what is it, anyway? Microsoft Word?) without thinking.
And I did publish some novels. Back when the previous owner lived here. I forgot his name, but he was pretty famous. For a time.
You might have read them. How old are you?
Oh, and what type of font do you like the most? Use the most? The space length between words? Average word count per day?
Sorry.
I'm excited.
So...
... what do you say?
Just nod your head.
Excellent!
Thank you!
So much!
You won't regret this!
I promise!
And don't worry, I can delete this!
