Wen Yi was stunned for a moment, her own fingers reaching up to touch; she felt around several times as if trying to discern some tactile sensation or as if she could erase it by merely touching.
In the mirror, beneath her soft and disheveled black short hair was a face shocked into a daze.
A few seconds later, she threw the toothbrush and toothpaste back without any order, turned around, and walked into the bedroom. She spun around like a headless fly before it seemed to dawn on her to go to the living room, where she indeed found the purse she had taken to the banquet last night on the sofa.
She dug out her phone from the purse and, without thinking, tapped on the words "brother" in her contacts list.
The call went out.
After forty or fifty seconds of ringing with no answer, just as Wen Yi was growing impatient and was about to hang up and redial, the busy tone abruptly ended, followed by a man's groggy and extremely irritable husky voice, "What is it?"
