by Freida Marie Crump
Greetings from Poosey.
It was a good boat. In fact he’d sailed it his entire life and until today it had never caused him a minute’s problem. Every morning he’d catch the outgoing tide, spend his day doing his sailor-ly duty, then in the evening the tides would again come in, bringing him safely home. Until today.
He couldn’t remember what he’d done differently or perhaps