Illustration of ephemeral (short story)

Illustration of ephemeral

"...and then flashes of bright light, like when you close your eyes and press on your eyelids this hard." The man theatrically closed his eyes and pressed both fists against his eyelids with noticeable pressure for a moment. "They come and go as circles until you become one with the warm orange particles dissipated over the grass, trees, and soil. There's no fear of death, because there's no need for it—you still exist as an observer. You don't feel less; in fact, you feel more: every blade of grass covered in dew, every sniff of the fox, every flap of a wing—part of them is you. Your consciousness senses billions of tiny particles, each in its rightful place, belonging to this world..."

"Hey, Jim. The meeting seems early." A young man enters the room, his face showing the fatigue of morning. Dressed in a black shirt, he looks somewhat somber against the office crowd, though it's unclear to what extent his personality contributes to the gloomy impression he carries.

"Oh, it's just Olaf. He's had the most bizarre dream and won't shut up about it. I have to admit, the more I listen, the more it makes sense."

The black-shirted man slips through the crowd until he spots a nameplate on the table reading Flake. His seat was occupied by a girl from accounting, who was leaning forward, elbows on the table, completely engrossed in Olaf's story. "Nat, could you kindly shift your cherry bossom out of here?" Flake pretends to sound annoyed, though he takes a brief moment to admire the view before addressing the girl.

The girl reluctantly moved from the spot. "Sorry, didn't mean to. The story is just so vivid. I didn't know Olaf had such a way with words. Men rarely describe their feelings, let alone with such vigor."

As Olaf's story wound down, a lingering hush settled over the room. One by one, Flake's coworkers returned back to their desks, strangely inspired. For the rest of the day, they seemed almost euphoric, carrying a blissful, unshakable calm that made their usual worries seem like distant trivialities. In the evening, they hurried home to their families, beloved pets, or hobbies. Every twenty-four hours, a chthonic time monster relentlessly consumes another day, so people make haste to savor their few precious moments of freedom.

Flake glanced at Nat as she packed her things into a small purse. Strange how, each time he thought about asking her out, he found ten reasons not to. His life wasn't dismal, certainly not tragic enough to take satisfaction in his own suffering. He'd grown accustomed to solitude, to the point it felt like a familiar comfort. Yet sometimes, he still yearned for something warm beside him. People have ways of seeking out worries when life grows too uneventful. He told her this evening felt like a good one for a walk together — and to his surprise, Nat agreed.

In the frosty October evening under the spruce trees, they strolled and tried to keep the conversation away from work. They laughed about koalas and why a eucalyptus diet makes them sluggish; he listened as Nat talked about her mother, who had passed away last year; he shared his dream of moving to islands where summer never ends. In the end, they hugged for a long time and finally kissed in the spur of a moment. He was overjoyed but cautious; being someone who relied on well-thought-out decisions rather than fleeting emotions, he decided to postpone any questions until tomorrow.

The new day began with a familiar gathering — Olaf was broadcasting again. Flake stopped in the doorway, observing the strange meeting for the second day in a row. He spotted Nat in the front row, right next to Olaf himself. She was listening as if yesterday's storytelling hadn't happened. Sensing someone watching her, she looked up, and their eyes met. Nat rewarded him with a radiant smile; her eyes expressed no regret, and it was clear that yesterday had not been a mistake. There was now a spark of romance between them.

Today, no one tried to push through the crowd to reach their usual tables. Although more people gathered, those not interested in stories were content to slack off with a cup of coffee, and management viewed Olaf's gathering as, though somewhat bizarre, nevertheless a positive team bonding event. They even attempted to participate in the meeting and slip in a bit of corporate agenda among the employees.