When the horizon had once more tightened its wire,
and it was no longer a matter of life and death,
it was difficult to say where one began and the other ended.
We like to imagine doors that we can shut,
because we are afraid of space,
decided Theodora, who lay with her arm
protecting the child,
with whom she had just experienced
the moment of death.
Patrick White
Theodora made a habit of stealing beneath Jonah and Alma's bed. She was never invited into their bed to cuddle and laugh as she had done with Mummy and Daddy. Instead she would lay, frightened, while longing for closeness, listening to the noises of the night. "Why you dirty little bitch," coughed Jonah and thrashed her all the more.
One day Jonah heard her sneeze. He grunted and snapped at Alma. Then two sets of eyes peered at her under the bed.
"You sneaky little brat," spat Aunt Alma.
Without warning, Jonah pulled the child by the feet out from under the bed and throwing her onto the covers he spanked her. The shock was too much for poor Theodora who emptied the contents of her bladder over the bed and onto the floor.
Theodora didn't venture under their bed again.
As she gazed out the train's window, she hoped never again to see her uncle's wizened eyes and his grubby grey fingers.
