Typewriter Emergencies May 2017

Over the Top
Mog Moogle
23
He clutched the gold heart-shaped locket
in his paws. Loving care kept it polished
to a high shine. It was open to reveal
a faded picture of the young otter in
his finest suit standing next to his new
bride. Despite the trends of the time, the
shorter otter in her white dress had a
smile. It always brought him comfort.
***
Lowell stepped from the carriage
onto the platform. The smell of the coal
fired boilers and engine grease permeated
the air. Steam hissed from the front of
the train as it bled off. Lowell took it all
in, happy to be stretching his legs and
his tail that had been curled behind him
for almost three hours. Despite that, the
prospect of seeing the cliffs kept a smile
on his face.
With no plans to stay more than the
afternoon, he had brought no luggage
with him. Lowell stretched as he walked
to the back of the platform and through
the green painted iron gate for arriving
passengers. Moving along the footpath
beside the road with no real aim, it surprised
the otter to see the roads with
nearly as many motorized carriages as in
Chiswick. He turned toward the center
of town and was half way up the street
when one of the automobiles grabbed
his attention.
He saw a Rolls-Royce with gold accents
stop in front of a cafe. The driver
got out and walked around to the curb
side and opened the door. Holding it
open, he offered his paw to a young
woman in a long dress and a plumed hat.
Lowell watched as the young lady
stepped down to the curb. She briefly
straightened her dress as an older gentleman
slid over and stepped out of the
automobile. He was a well-dressed, but
appeared to be in his late fifties. Lowell
saw him offer his arm to the much
younger otter and then escort her into
the cafe.
Lowell was amazed by her beauty. He
had never seen another otter his age that
just drew his gaze the way she had. He
looked up the street, then at the cafe,
down toward the station he had come
from, and then at the cafe again. The rest
of Dover could wait.
He waited for an automobile and
a horse drawn carriage to pass then
crossed the brick road. Lowell moved
around the front of Rolls and up onto
the footpath in front of the cafe. Opening
the door and stepping in, he was
greeted with the aroma of fresh baked
pastries and strong steeping tea.
After a quick glance around the interior,
he saw the young lady and older
gentleman settling in at a table near
the back wall. He walked back toward