The Space Between
written by: Annika Radtke
Elli enters the house and rushes straight upstairs to her bedroom. Her cheeks are salty and flushed from the cold, crisp air creeping in behind her, through the open door, and into the house. The house, which is usually so full of warmth, can’t keep the cold from slowly slipping in, even after Mother closes the door. The fireplace sizzles in the living room, and the air is heavy from the unspoken truth. Too loud. Too quiet. Mother follows Elli upstairs, wrapped in a scarf to keep the cold away. They both look under the bed at the small, unmoving shadow in the corner. “She has not come out since we came back, but he told us to wait for tomorrow.” So they wait. The hours pass. When Mother comes back, she finds the two lying next to each other. The blanket and pillow are prepared for the night. Yet both of them are lying on the floor in the cramped space underneath the bed, using an old bathing robe as a pillow. The lamp dimly illuminates the night, making it feel like everlasting dusk. Time stops. Elli falls asleep under the bed, the little body beside her. Dawn breaks, dusk is not everlasting. Time is running now. The three of them go outside to the car. Cold air is following them. An hour later, Mother and Elli return. Elli walks straight upstairs again. She kneels, holding her breath, and looks under the bed. A stain from uneaten food remains on the bathing robe. She leaves the room, robe untouched — just in case.
- The Space Between - March 30, 2026
