He looked not at all tired or sleepy or sad, as though he was happy calling the end of his duty by having successfully passed his problems to Mei.
Exhausted Mei could barely squat in the toilet. The same haunting words fl ew over her head like fl ies bothering her old and new wounds. Do whatever you think is right. Nothing is right. Everything seems wrong.
The night seemed alive as she took a fi nal look at the tiny squared window. Two or three cockroaches were moving in diff erent directions. One of them was arriving at the windowsill for a good rest, seemingly implying Mei how she must rest right now. But Mei was still hanging there. The roach soon disappeared as though it were disappointed or disregarded. Then everything turned into obscurity.