by Tracy Davidson 

Captain Drake “Ducky” Mallard never touched rum. Or Spanish gold. She’d seen what both did to fellow pirates. She preferred a clear head and curseless life.

Well, relatively curseless. Once a month, hormones turned her into raving hellbeast. Her First Mate learnt to handle her (after having been tossed overboard two or thirteen times). The support parrot helped. And pots and pots of smuggled tea.

She didn’t murder. Or maim (much). Until the day an aggrieved tea merchant strangled said support parrot.

She had both stuffed and mounted. Now, parrot feathers and a pair of ball bags adorn her hat.

Tracy Davidson

Tracy Davidson lives in Warwickshire, England, and writes poetry and flash fiction. Her work has appeared in various publications and anthologies, including: Poet’s Market, Mslexia, Atlas Poetica, Modern Haiku, The Binnacle, A Hundred Gourds, Shooter, Journey to Crone, The Great Gatsby Anthology, WAR, In Protest: 150 Poems for Human Rights.