How long had she been washing her hands. She wasn't sure when she realized it must have been long. She didn't have some psychological disorder. She just had forgotten that she had been washing her hands. She wasn't really washing her hands, she then realized. She had just been leaving her hands under the warm water. She woke herself up and moved her hands away from the water and then used them to shut off the water. Then she reached under the paper dispenser and waited for the paper to come out.
"Good bye, then."
Still in her head. Still so clear. But why not. She had just heard herself say that thirty minutes ago. Or something like that.
One piece of paper came out for her to rip off the machine. She meticulously wiped her hands clean until the paper had shrunken with the absorption of the water.
"Good riddance," she muttered again, and with that she angrily crumbled the wet paper towel and cast it into the nearest trash bin.
Then she walked out, not looking at the mirror; it was too soon to reconnect with herself.
