Let’s talk about the space between the places you can see and the ones that are just out of reach. The places a human brain can’t process because we aren’t wired for it anymore. Maybe years ago we were. And some of us still are, but we lock those of us up who say they see the light spilling out in the shape of beings and people and voices from another place that no one can hear but them. So for now, we aren’t wired for it and we stick with that story.
But the spaces are there. They’re the crack in the sidewalk where a tree grows. The moss inexplicably clinging to the concrete buildings downtown. The spaces are the dark under the bed and at the back of the closet and the moments between the lights flickering on when we first walk into an empty room and when the shadows scuttle back into their recesses behind fluttering curtains we convince ourselves only move because we’ve entered the space and shuffled the air around them.
These spaces, they aren’t unoccupied and here’s the thing we all know we know, but no one really talks about. Sure, it’s funny around the campfire to tell a story of ghosts lurking beyond the firelight or to repeat Aunt Janice’s tale of the time she saw your cousin Jonathan across the parking lot of the Supermarket even though she’d come home to the message that he was dead on the sands with the rest of his convoy. But what we all know is that the spaces are full of voices that aren’t just echoes of our own.
The stories that we have to tell ourselves as we walk down dark alleys or hike alone along the shady paths in the silent woods, those stories are the comfort from the old times when we decided we would shut our ears and eyes to the truth. And yet, the spaces remain. So now it should come as no surprise that today, an ordinary day like yesterday, will separate the other days from the rest of our tomorrows as the day that the Others in the spaces came forward and the worlds hidden there, the small forests whose trees had but breached our concrete and whose whispers had before been dismissed as the wind, crashed into our world and changed the spaces we shared forever. A simple day and a simple place and a simple child who spoke words long forgotten from a book that they said had been hidden forever and in that reading became a queen of both the lost and hidden spaces and out bright and concrete jungles. Let’s talk about those spaces. And let’s talk about this girl, this Queen.