MY01cm | 두뇌훈련 워크북

My mother’s appearance at the gate was so vivid it felt surreal. She was wearing her favorite light-purple apron from fifteen years ago, still stained with a small blotch of red pepper flakes.

“Dad, don’t get out. This doesn’t make sense.”

My voice was trembling, but Dad opened the car door as if possessed. It seemed the guilt and longing that had haunted him for fifteen years had finally overwhelmed this bizarre terror. As Dad stumbled out of the car, Grandma—who had been sitting in the back—stepped out swiftly as if to lead the way and walked through the gate.

“Mother, you’re here? You said my husband and the child would be coming soon, and you really brought them together.”

Mother greeted Grandma with a bright smile. That voice, that tone—the fragments of memory shattered by the gas explosion fifteen years ago were perfectly reassembling before my eyes. Ultimately, I was drawn out of the car like a magnet and passed through the gate.

The high-rise buildings that had loomed over the walls were gone. Only low-roofed Hanoks, old utility poles, and the pungent smell of coal briquette ash remained. The Cheongun-dong of 2011 was unfolding under the night sky of 2026.

Evidence of Frozen Time

As soon as we entered the house, the savory scent of soybean paste stew (Doenjang-jjigae) hit my nose. A steaming meal was set on the table. But what I saw wasn’t just a dinner table.

• The Grandfather Clock: In a silence where even the sound of the winding gears was absent, the hands of the clock were frozen at 7:15.
• The Wall Calendar: My phone clearly said January 2026, but the calendar on the wall was stuck in January 2011, yellowed with age.
• The TV Screen: Through the static noise, the faint voice of a news anchor from fifteen years ago was drifting out.

“Sit down quickly, the food is getting cold.”

Mother grabbed my wrist and sat me down. The moment her fingertips touched the back of my hand, a chilling sensation ran through me. She was warm. I expected her to be cold as a corpse, but her hand held the warmth of a living person.

Dad just stared at Mother’s face, tears streaming down his cheeks. Grandma picked up her spoon as if she were already used to this.

“Eat. That’s the only way you can leave,” Grandma whispered lowly.

With a trembling hand, I lifted a spoon and took a sip of the stew.

“I can’t… taste anything.”

There was warmth on the tip of my tongue and a savory smell in my nose. But the moment I chewed, the food scattered in my mouth like grains of sand. It was merely something in the ‘shape’ of food—remnants of time with no nutrition or flavor.

The Glowing Red Bracelet

It was then that I noticed Grandma’s wrist under the table. The red light of the silver bracelet was flickering much stronger and faster than before, as if it were signaling someone.

“Mom, but… why are all the clocks stopped at 7:15?”

When I asked, Mother’s smiling face instantly froze into a blank expression. The air around the table turned icy, and the static from the TV grew louder.

“Because that’s when… we parted ways,” Mother asked, tilting her head. Her eyes began to glint sharply, just like Grandma’s. “But dear, why have you aged so much? I thought you were wearing your school uniform just a moment ago…”

Mother’s gaze fixed on the smartwatch on my wrist and my 2026-model puffer jacket. Simultaneously, an ominous sound, like the fluttering of thousands of insects, erupted from outside the gate.

“Dad, we have to go! We can’t stay here!”

I grabbed Dad’s arm. But Dad had already frozen, a glass of soju poured by Mother held to his lips. His eyes were also beginning to cloud over, turning into the same ‘eyes of the past’ as Grandma’s.

Just then, Grandma gripped my wrist tightly. The red light from the bracelet climbed up my arm.

“It’s too late. The door is closing.”

I looked out the window. The alleyway we had just driven through was melting away like black liquid, disappearing into nothingness.

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[Next Episode Teaser]

Episode 4: The Struggle for 7:16
Every object in the house begins to revert to its state from fifteen years ago, suffocating us. My phone—a relic from 2026—starts to burn, and Dad begins to lose his memory. In this space frozen at 7:15, how can we cross over to 7:16? And who is the true owner of the bracelet Grandma is hiding?