For quite a while, Mei stood motionless as she started to review everything. The brighter sunshine from a much bigger hole, the only window, spotlighted the mess that still remained from the night before. The fallen table was lying on the ground. The broken bowls and plates were parts of a skeleton, some glistening under the light and some exposed in the shade. The steamed chicken head with one eye popping out and the other missing was broken, and the meat was separated from the bone. Luckily the boys had already shared half the chicken. The beef balls and the greens had darkened overnight. The water had not yet dried completely, and the oil had frozen solid. Overall, it looked as if the fallen table was the main gray character dying of melancholia.