103
" One night, when I still lived in my Bushwick studio, I opened up the medicine cabinet, searching for Clinique skin exfoliant, and saw Jonathan’s mug. Inside, there was his retainer, soaking in old green mouthwash. My heart leaped, and for a while, inexplicable second, I thought he must’ve not left New York after all.
I stood over the sink and eased the thing into my mouth. It was too big. His teeth were not my teeth. I looked at myself, my freakish, grotesque self, a mouthful of metal and plastic jutting out, and knew I was alone.
I spit the retainer out. I washed it, filled the mug with fresh mouthwash, and placed it back in the medicine cabinet. I thought, absurdly, that I’d keep his retainer fresh, for when he returned. That’s where it still is, in my old apartment. "
― Ling Ma , Severance