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Typewriter Emergencies May 2017

Typewriter Emergencies is a journal of furry lit which started out as an anthology. The purpose of Typewriter Emergencies is to provide a venue for shorter stories with payment to the author. Cover and Illustrations are by Joseph Chou. Featured in our first release since 2015 are: ​ Interviews with Klace Rechan Arrkay ​ Poetry by Paul Brookes Bill Garten ​ Short Fiction by Mary E. Lowd James L. Steele Daniel Lowd Carmen Welsh Jr. AKA CopperSphinx Mog Moogle Billy Leigh Thurston Howl BanWynn Oakshadow Kem MacGregor

Typewriter Emergencies is a journal of furry lit which started out as an anthology. The purpose of Typewriter Emergencies is to provide a venue for shorter stories with payment to the author. Cover and Illustrations are by Joseph Chou. Featured in our first release since 2015 are:



Interviews with

Klace

Rechan

Arrkay



Poetry by

Paul Brookes

Bill Garten



Short Fiction by

Mary E. Lowd
James L. Steele
Daniel Lowd
Carmen Welsh Jr. AKA CopperSphinx
Mog Moogle
Billy Leigh
Thurston Howl
BanWynn Oakshadow
Kem MacGregor

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Fox in Starbucks<br />

Daniel Lowd<br />

15<br />

Once upon a time there was a fox. He<br />

was in Starbucks. What a scoundrel! He<br />

was in Starbucks because Tully's was on<br />

the other side of the street, and he did<br />

not want to get hit by a car. Also, the<br />

fox really liked frappuccinos. He called<br />

them foxaccinos. Because he was a fox.<br />

And had questionable taste in nomenclature.<br />

Anyway, the fox was in Starbucks<br />

trying to get a frappuccino, but he<br />

didn't have any money. Since he didn't<br />

have any money, no one would give him<br />

even a taste of frappuccino. How sad.<br />

He thought about baring his teeth and<br />

trying to scare the baristas into making<br />

him a frappuccino, but that wouldn't be<br />

very nice. Also, the baristas were larger<br />

and outnumbered him by a lot. He could<br />

maybe take on a baby barista— lunge<br />

for the throat, crush the windpipe, let it<br />

bleed out, and feast on the corpse— but<br />

not a group of adults. Besides, he would<br />

rather have a frappuccino. And maybe a<br />

muffin.<br />

Since he had no money and did not<br />

want to resort to violence, he decided<br />

he needed a job. So he looked around for<br />

a place to work. Well, he was already<br />

in Starbucks, so he tried to get a job<br />

in Starbucks. Unfortunately, he didn't<br />

speak English. And his resume was out<br />

of date. Actually, he didn't have a resume.<br />

Or a briefcase to carry it in. Or a<br />

nice suit. Or any qualifications for being<br />

a barista, like the ability to operate an<br />

espresso machine, or the ability to count<br />

money, or opposable thumbs.<br />

Disheartened, he left Starbucks and<br />

went to Hollywood, in hopes of making<br />

it big as a movie star. At least, big<br />

enough to afford a frappuccino. It was a<br />

long, long walk to Hollywood. He kept<br />

walking and walking and walking. He<br />

didn't even know what direction it was<br />

in. But he kept walking. Because he had<br />

a dream, a dream of being a famous movie<br />

star that could drink frappuccinos,<br />

and he couldn't give up on his dream.<br />

After walking for many hours, the sun<br />

began to set. Soon it was dark. And he<br />

was hungry. So he gave up on his dream<br />

and ate some garbage out of a dumpster.

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