I live alone. The apartment had large floor-to-ceiling windows and was covered in dust. Exhausted. That is, whenever night comes, I will always drag my feeble body around the whole room, leaving a long and thin trace like the last ray of sunlight being taken away. At ten o'clock in the middle of the night, I woke up from a nightmare. When I opened my eyes, I found that I was lying in a corner of the room. The TV was on, an old yellowed movie was playing, and the two of them were talking in a weird language and making graceful gestures.
The left side of my room is 2713 and the right side is 2715.
On the right are traces of her past, her death and her existence.
2713 Is him, the future I am walking into now, and also the past of my future, the eternal stranger.