The Spear Cuts Through Water

by Simon Jimenez

And it was near the end of some long and little-visited corridor where Keema, with trembling lip, showed Jun a memory he had never shared with anyone, for he knew that if he did not share it now, it might stay locked within him forever, and that was a possibility too unbearable to entertain, and this was how Jun learned of the tale of Keema’s lost left arm. And when he did, he looked at Keema with reappraising eyes through his mask, and he said nothing, for some memories do not need commenting on. You may wonder what it was that Jun saw behind that memory-door. What pain, and what bloodshed, that was secreted away for so many years. But this was a tale meant for him and him alone, and matters little in the scheme of the story told on this stage tonight, so this moonlit body will leave it where it lies. If this does not satisfy you, then imagine this: Imagine a great battle in the courtyard of a towering fortress. Imagine a sword, whipping out of its sheath, and a leap of blood as Keema, wide-eyed, watches his arm fly across the battlefield. Imagine whatever lie you like.

I love a disabled character getting privacy from the reader