Fictional Pictorial History of Kittery, Maine

I'm not the raft from that Stephen King short story that ended up being adapted for film in one of those Creepshow movies, though everybody always asks me if I am. I think it's pretty obvious that I'm not. I'm a raft in an oceanfront harbor, and in that story and movie, the raft that the sex-crazed high school kids stay on to try to remain safe from that moving monster oil-slick thing is clearly set on a LAKE. I mean, c'mon people. Use your fucking brains for a change and stop asking.

The guys who slept here for a couple of years just left me here. I heard musketfire throughout the day for all that time. They positioned themselves in my turrets and portals, sifting ammunition powder for cannonballs. I think some must have died but I lost count. They were around 18, some younger. Everything in the world contains a war.