1
 
One day in late autumn, the hedgehog was sitting by the window looking out.
He was alone. Nobody ever came to visit and if someone happened to be passing and thought, Oh, isn’t this where Hedgehog lives? and rang the bell, the hedgehog would be sure to be asleep or else he’d hesitate for so long they’d have already walked on again before he’d made it to the door.
He pressed his nose against the glass, screwed up his eyes and thought of the animals he knew, who were always constantly visiting each other, sometimes for no reason at all, never waiting for a birthday or something else to celebrate. What if I invited them here for once… he thought.
He had never invited anyone anywhere.
He opened his eyes again, scratched between the prickles on the back of his head, thought for a little longer and then wrote a letter:
 
Dear animals,
I hereby invite all of you to come and visit me.
 
Chewing his pen, he gave the back of his head another scratch, then wrote at the bottom.
But if nobody comes, that’s okay too.
He frowned.
If they read this letter, he thought, won’t they think, The hedgehog doesn’t really want any visitors…? Or maybe, Quick, let’s go and visit right away while he still wants us to… the hedgehog’s always changing his mind…?
I can’t decide, he thought.
He put the letter in a drawer of his cupboard and shook his head. I won’t send it, he thought. Not yet.
 
 
2
 
Not yet. The hedgehog sat down by the window again and thought about those two words. Not and Yet.
It was like they were dancing inside his head. Not was turning circles with measured steps. Yet was looking around uncertainly.
The hedgehog closed his eyes. Now I can see them better, he thought. Not grabbed hold of Yet and Yet cud- dled up to Not. They were dancing and only had eyes for each other.
But suddenly the door opened and another word came in. That’s Just, thought the hedgehog. He could tell from its coat, which was almost too small.
Just went over to Not and Yet, squeezed in between them and joined the dance. The hedgehog sighed.
After a while Just slipped away and Anytime came stomp- ing in. It was wearing a hat and a thickly quilted winter coat, and it too pushed in between Not and Yet.
The hedgehog felt his heart pounding. It was like the words were dancing towards him, straight through his thoughts, and expecting something from him. As if he was supposed to do something with them. He didn’t know what. The three words leapt up onto the table and kept dancing, faster and faster and more and more furiously. The hedgehog could hardly bear to watch and was about to close his mind’s eye and open his real ones. But suddenly Anytime disappeared. Not and Yet climbed down from the table and stood there indecisively, looking at each other. More dancing? Not raised its eyebrows. It was willing, but Yet shook its head.
The hedgehog heard a racket outside. The door opened again and Just came back in with Once. They were in high spirits. Skipping and cooing. They both had funny red feathers in their hair.
Just and Once grabbed Not and Yet and, in the same instant, calmed down and began a stately four-person dance.
It had grown dark in the hedgehog’s room.
Yet Not Just Once, he thought, and Yet danced away for a moment, leaving Not Just Once. And Not swirled off after Yet. Just Once. Just Once.
And suddenly it was glorious the way they were dancing together, and the hedgehog thought, Dance on like that forever. Because beyond those words everything was black.
 
 
3
 
Games, thought the hedgehog, reopening his eyes. Get a grip. This is about visitors and that’s no game.
He lay down on his bed and thought about the letter in the cupboard drawer.
Maybe they’ll write back that they can’t come. All of them. They’ll have their reasons.
The hedgehog could already see dozens of letters blowing in under the door. He picked them up and read them one after the other:
‘If I come to visit, I want a three-storey honey cake covered with icing and with a whipped-cream fountain on top under a fondant sky, but I don’t think I can make it.’
‘I came to visit just the other day, but you didn’t open up. I looked in through the window just in time to see you crawling under your bed.’
‘Thanks for the invite! Come and visit! You! How lovely! I was over the moon when I read your letter! Hedgehog, visit Hedgehog… But I can’t.’
‘I think I won’t be able to come. I just don’t know the reason yet.’
‘I’ll be there in spirit.’
‘Best wishes in lieu of a visit.’
The hedgehog sighed. Of course nobody will come.
He piled the letters up on the floor next to the bed and turned onto his back, feeling relieved and sad at the same time. I am made to be lonely, he thought, just like I’m made to be prickly. If I had wings instead of prickles I wouldn’t be this lonely. I’d fly wherever I wanted to go and never be wistful about anything again.
He wanted to get some sleep but couldn’t. Maybe every- one will come after all, he thought.
He shivered, got up and made himself some tea. Two cups.
 
 
4
 
After drinking the tea, the hedgehog got the letter out of the drawer and read through it.
Maybe they’ll come right away, he thought. All at once.
First thing tomorrow morning.
He felt a chill pass through him and put down the letter. He could already hear the animals approaching. The forest seemed to be quivering with excitement.
They were milling around in front of the door, shouting, ‘Hedgehog! We’re here! Your visitors! Thanks for the invi- tation! Everyone’s made it! Nobody’s missing!’
They pushed the door open and stormed in. Most of them were walking, flying or crawling, but the pike and the carp, and a little later the whale and the shark, swam in on big waves they’d brought with them for the occasion. ‘What fun, Hedgehog!’ they all cried. ‘Do you have tea?
And cake?’
There were too many animals to make tea for. And there was only one small, slightly stale cake. The hedgehog shrugged helplessly.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ they cried, ‘we’ll just dance.’
They wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders and danced around the table, singing, ‘We’re Hedgehog’s… we’re Hedgehog’s… we’re Hedgehog’s visitors. Everyone has made it and we don’t need to eat.’
‘But aren’t you scared of me?’ the hedgehog asked, sticking his prickles up as straight as he could.
‘Not at all,’ they cried. ‘We’re way too happy to be scared.’ In no time the floor caved in under their dancing, making a hole for the mole and the worm to creep up through, calling out that they were coming to visit too. They had brought some mud pies, which stayed good for years, according to them, but could also be eaten straight away if you preferred.
‘Who’d expected something like this?’ they all asked.
Not me, thought the hedgehog. He slipped outside and crawled into the bushes behind the house.
Soon after, the animals stopped dancing, having noticed that the hedgehog was gone.
‘Hedgehog, Hedgehog!’ they cried.
Their calls could be heard far beyond the forest and soon the camel and the termite came running in from the desert. They didn’t want to be left out.
‘Hedgehog, Hedgehog, Hedgehog…’ they kept shouting together.
But the hedgehog crept deeper and deeper into the bushes.
He shook his head, changed ‘all of you’ to ‘one of you’, put ‘at most’ in front of that and read the letter once again…