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JACK B. BEDELL HONEY ISLAND, MOON A friend of mine has a dream of kayaking through Honey Island swamp under moon glow. He’s in love with the idea of soft breeze, of bird call and slow tide. Because he is a close friend, I do not wish to light this dream aflame with truth, with the yellow eyes of alligators or the white noise of mosquito swarms. I truly want this dream to remain ideal, until one of us moves away and any possibility of me having to paddle fades quietly over the horizon line. |