At forty, he was a frustrated middle-aged man with no success to show for his life. Each day passed in a haze, spent drowning his sorrows over drinks. Then came an ordinary hangover, the blare of an ambulance, his mother's tears. His eyes felt so heavy. I'm sorry, Mom. I need to sleep.
When he opened his eyes again, voices clamored around him. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and saw a desk that was both familiar and strange. Where was he…
