"Look" she said, and pointed far off into the distance, "It's a pirate ship and they are coming to attack us. We must prepare quickly so that we can repel them." I looked, hard, in the direction that her finger suggested, but I could not see the boat or the threat it posed.
"What do you think they will do?" I asked.
"They will sail towards us in their small rowing boats and storm up the beach with their cutlasses in their hands, waving them and shouting. They will chase us through the streets and into our houses, smashing windows and tearing down any gates or doors that are in their way.
"If we do not fight they will hurt the men and hack them down and they will carry off all the girls and women to be their pirate molls and we shall all have to adjust to a life at sea, rolling with the waves and drinking rum, late into the night."
I looked again but all I saw was the wall of dusty, old bricks and cracking concrete that stands behind our city apartment home.
I did not tell her that I saw no ship because it would hurt her that I could not share her vision. My little sister has been blind from birth.
submitted at 10:40am
7 January 2011
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