The Spear Cuts Through Water by Simon Jimenez EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Simon Jimenez
- Language: English
- Genre: Coming of Age Fantasy eBooks
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 6.9 MB
- Price: Free
Before you arrive,
you remember your lola, smoking. You remember the smell of her dried
tobacco, like hay after a storm. The soft crinkle of the rolling paper. The zip
of the matchstick, which she’d sometimes strike against the lizard-rough
skin of her leg, to impress you. You remember the ritual of it. Her mouth
was too dry to lick the paper shut so she had you do it, the twiggy pieces of
tobacco sticking to your tongue like bugs’ legs as you wetted the edges. She
told you it was an exchange. Your spit for her stories.
Tales of the Old
Country; of ruined kingdoms and tragic betrayals and old trees that drank
the blood of foxes foolish enough to sleep amongst their sharp roots; any
tale that could be told in the span of one quickly burning cigarette. “It was
all so very different back then,” she’d begin, and you’d watch the paper curl
and burn between her fingers as she described the one hundred wolves who
hunted the runaway sun, and the mighty sword Jidero, so thin it could cut
open the space between seconds. Her words forever married to the musk of
her cigarette and her bone-rattling laughter; so much so that whenever you
think of that place, long ago and far away, you cannot help but think of
smoke, and death.
When did she first tell you of the Inverted Theater?
You were thirteen, you think; it was around that age that she often seemed
startled by you, offended even, her lip curling whenever you came into the
room, as if an untoward stranger had just tripped into her on the street. You
thought her distaste was because of your body odor, your oily skin, your
shy hunch, but the truth was she was just surprised by how quickly time had
passed. Your youth wounded her. It made her want to protect you, and to
kick you out the door.
“Sit,” she said, when she saw you passing the kitchen. “Listen. I have a
tale to tell.”
The warm, breeze-blown night came in through the propped-open
window, playing at the sheer curtains and the smoke from your lola’s
fingers, as she told you of the theater that stood between worlds.
“Once, the Moon and the Water were in love.” She lingered on that
word, love, just as the smoke lingered in the air. “You can imagine it was
not the most convenient affair. One was trapped in the heavens, the other
the earth. One was stillness itself, the other made only of waves and
tempests. But they were happy for a time. The Moon would bathe the Water
in its radiance, and the Water would dance, with its ebb and flow, to the
Moon’s suggestion.
And though they occupied different spheres, they were
able to visit one another through less direct means, for there is no barrier in
this life that love cannot overcome. The Water would send up to the skies
plump storm clouds, swollen with its essence, its cool mist and salty breath
kissing the Moon’s dry and cracked surface. And the Moon, when it wished
to visit the Water, would
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