Meredith Jones The Broadside

摘要

WHEN I WAS 7 YEARS OLD, I began having a recurring nightmare about pirates. In my dream, headless pirates sailed down the neighboring city-maintained swale and discussed how they were going to cut off and steal my family's heads. Never mind that there was zero moving water, let alone enough to sail a ship, in said gully except in the roughly 25 minutes following a torrential downpour. And let's ignore the fact that the drainage ditch originated a mere 20 yards away at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Hall — who were not, to the best of my knowledge now or then, pirates or sponsors thereof. We should also overlook the fact that the pirates were with no heads (and therefore no mouths) loudly discussing their head-swiping mission.