I was trapped in the rain of 2016, and the rotten smell I smelled came from the future.
A car accident on a rainy night brought me into the autumn of 2016.
The air was filled with the smell of dust and soot from the old days, the street lights were dim, and it was raining non-stop. In the shadows on the street corner, a vague figure stared at me. And when I walked toward it subconsciously, I kicked a small, clammy, trembling thing under my feet—a kitten with weirdly bright eyes.
Picking it up with a soft heart, it seemed to tear open a crack in reality.
Neighbors' muffled chatter echoed in the corridors, talking about whose house had "unlike a living person" noises and an increasingly strong rotten odor. I hid in my temporary home, and the darkness of the power outage swallowed everything.
