Lazarus stood at the office window gazing at the brightness of the morning sun. On his wrist was a silver bracelet that featured a large black opal gemstone. His coworkers sat in their cubicles, focused on the keyboards and not noticing how long he stood there.

Lazarus could hear the sweetest tune in his head, playing over and over. He touched the gemstone, remembering finding the box waiting for him when he got home from work yesterday. It didn’t have a return address or a note and when he opened it he found a black leather box. Inside the box, nestled in black satin, was the bracelet he was now wearing.

A sunbeam dazzled him and for a brief second he sensed something calling him. It was the sweet tune of a thousand bells, each twinkling in unison, creating a cascade of music that played endlessly in his mind.

"Lazarus? Are you ok?"

He turned to see his manager looking at him. "I’m fine. It’s been really hot the last few days."

"Yes, are you coming down with something?" She made a move toward him.

"No, I’ll be fine."

He almost asked her if she heard the sweet music, but instead tore his eyes away from the sun and walked over to his desk. His computer screen saver was on, showing bubbles floating over the screen. He sank onto his chair, ignoring the squeak of protest it gave.

Lazarus was fast approaching middle age. His once black hair was now peppered with gray. He had been with this pharmaceutical company for several years now, working in the accounting department. He was in charge of the accounts and vendors, making sure shipments and payments were in order. It was more bookkeeping than accounting.

He started working on his spreadsheets checking and rechecking his figures and invoices but was distracted by the opal on the bracelet that had started to glow and pulsate. He took it off and placed it on his desk, looking around to make sure his coworkers hadn’t noticed anything.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the opal, it had become a beacon to his memories. He tried to concentrate on his work, but his mind drifted to his life and why he ended up here. He thought about high school and the girl he was madly in love with. Her name was Yvonne, a haughty Latin girl with light skin and long wavy brown hair.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Lazarus was too shy to talk to her, much less ask her out on a date. He was a short, gawky kid, who always talked to his best friends, George and Cindy. He never ventured out and talked to other people. He graduated high school never talking to Yvonne. The last thing he remembered, Yvonne was having her second baby and was happily married to a man she met in college.

He had a few girlfriends, of course, when he attended the California State Long Beach College. He got a degree in accounting, but never took the CPA test. He felt it was a waste of time. Now, he wished he had done things differently and taken that CPA test, and got married.

He felt his life was a series of moments that went nowhere, like his current job. Lazarus was adrift. He never wanted to push himself to make his situation better by getting that promotion, trying to get his CPA or talk to the girl he loved.

He couldn’t breathe and was beginning to shake. Jumping up, he walked towards the break room. As he walked down the hallway his vision blurred, as though he had rubbed his eyes. He lifted his arm and saw the bracelet on his wrist. The opal was no longer glowing but he barely noticed. He was trying to remember putting that bracelet back on, and could not.

Lazarus saw the door to the break room in front of him. He shook his head. What was happening to him? He had never felt or done things like this. He walked into the room. Black chairs and round tables were organized in the interior and several large windows showed the patio where people either smoked or sat in the sun. It was empty at this time of day. It was nearly 8:30 am, the beginning of the work day.

He walked over to the automated coffee machines. He calmed his breathing and decided it was only his nervousness getting the best of him.

Lately, as he slept, he had odd dreams of a place dark underground and a cavernous area where he saw large round cylinders like the oil storage tanks he saw off the freeway.

A stack of styrofoam cups sat on a counter with tea, creamer and sugar for coffee. He reached for the cup when everything blew away as if caught in a large wind. Stirring straws, cups and napkins, sugar packets and creamers flew around the room, lazily coming to rest on the tables and white tiled floor.

"What happened here?"

Lazarus turned and saw Peggy, the manager of HR, walking through the break room door. Her face was a mask of anger and bewilderment.

"I don't know. I found it like this," he said.

Peggy said, "It’s those guys in IT. They are always doing pranks, but they’ve gone too far this time.” She stormed off.

Lazarus grabbed a few of the cups and napkins and threw them into the trash, stopping when he felt something strange. It was not the music, but a rumbling noise deep within the ground. He looked around, but nothing was moving or falling. He closed his eyes, sensing it through his fingers.

Stop, he thought. This was crazy. None of this was real. He took a clean cup and pushed the button for black coffee, watching as the liquid fell into the cup. It pooled and swirled. He felt like he was falling into a deep chasm.