In my past life, I was a salary worker.
After college, I landed my first job at a mega co-operation.
But the working conditions drove me to insanity.
I realized with a sick feeling, from the moment I started working, that the cooperation was an exploitative company.
I arrive at the office at six o'clock in the morning without sparing time for a cup of coffee, then head diving into a truckload of tasks.
There were relentless meetings, constant deadlines, and multiple unfinished projects.
I had no lunch breaks instead I ate at my desk while trying to complete my tasks.
All my colleagues looked like zombies, trapped in the same vicious cycle of work.
I mean, why not? We were underpaid and overworked.
Overtime was a norm. I would look at the dates on my phone and realized it's been two weeks since I slept at home.
And yet, I'll spend hours staring at spreadsheets and report's plastered on my computer screen.
I hated this job as much as I hated my boss.
My health deteriorated due to numerous sleepless nights. I even developed an ulcer.
It was a horrifying life that I had to endure for sixteen dreadful years. Then one day, my life took a wild turn that changed everything.
I was fired.
It was a terrible mistake I made at work and my boss was so livid with me that he gave me the sack.
At age 34, I was depressed and unemployed with no savings, no wife and no kids. Finding a new job these days was nearly as impossible as finding a needle in a haystack.
So I did what all frustrated depressed folks do; go to a bar and drown myself in alcohol.
I was a failure. I couldn't do anything meaningful with my tragic life.
That very night, drunk and half conscious, I staggered into the road with a bottle in my hand.
The last thing I saw was a white truck crashing down into me. The screeching noise of tires kissing against the asphalt road told me all I needed to know.
My miserable life as I knew it, has finally come to an end!
Or so I thought....
* * * *
"Congratulations, Lady Myra. It's a boy," a girl's voice came to me.
My blurry vision adjusted as it focused on the girl with white short hair and two long pointy ears.
An elf? I don't believe it. Is that really an elf?
"Bring him to me," another woman said.
The elf girl picked me up as if I weighed a feather and placed me in the arms of the second woman.
This woman was a beauty, possibly in her early twenties. A warm smile played on her lips as she stared at me.
"Oh, Iris, he's so beautiful," she said, tears smarting her eyes. "Have you ever seen such golden eyes?"
So the elf girl's name is Iris, huh? How interesting.
Iris came over. "He's indeed a beautiful baby, my lady. What shall we name him?"
Myra wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "I've already thought about it. I'll name him Archer."
I blinked twice. Something strange has happened to me.
Glancing down, I noticed my feets and hands were tiny and the two women looked like giants from my perspective.
It only took me sixty seconds to figure it out. I have just been reincarnated and this woman is my new mother.
Iris leaned forward, staring suspiciously at me. "How strange. Most babies cry when they're born but he's unusually quiet."
Myra must've been thinking the same thing for she peered at me closely, a worried expression written on her face. "Now that you mentioned it, you're right."
Seeing their growing suspicion, I opened my mouth and pretended to cry out like a normal baby would.
The tension in their eyes eased off a bit. "Thank goodness," Myra laughed. "I actually thought something was wrong with him."
Well, it's not like she gets it. I was, after all, reincarnated with all the memories of my past life intact.