Water Moon

by Samantha Sotto Yambao

“Do you want to hear something weird?” Keishin said. “Stranger than trains that get lost at sea?” Hana knelt on the floor and set down the maps. “Not that strange.” Keishin smirked. “I don’t like maps.” “Why not?” “They remind me of all the things people pretend to know, all the things we make up to make us feel like we understand everything and are in control. Maps are more of an art form than a science. They’re designed at the discretion of their makers. Some things are shrunk, others are enlarged, some places are kept, and some are left out. We draw thick red lines around spaces we claim as our own as if we could actually see where one space ended and another began. But borders are simply constructs. They exist only in our minds.” Hana kept quiet, unsure how to completely yet politely disagree. Borders were real, and the ones that were the most difficult to cross were not the invisible lines between towns, but the walls people built around themselves. Borders were necessary. They kept secrets safe.