Strange Door

The phone screen was dazzlingly bright in the dark, and when I passed the wonton stand sign for the third time, I finally confirmed that something was wrong. Navigation signals lie. The blue dot representing myself was jumping crazily on the map. I was obviously going straight, but it showed that I was spinning in circles. I looked up at the surveillance cameras above my head. Seven cameras were neatly arranged on both sides of the alley. The red lights flickered on and off in the rainy night. Damn it. I cursed under my breath and kicked over the can in the corner. The sound of aluminum cans hitting the bluestone echoed in the alley, but the cameras that were supposed to capture this action were all deflected fifteen degrees, as if they were deliberately avoiding something. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.