{"id":251222,"date":"2026-07-13T01:06:18","date_gmt":"2026-07-12T22:06:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/346-am-nick-pirog\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T01:06:18","modified_gmt":"2026-07-12T22:06:18","slug":"346-am-nick-pirog","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/346-am-nick-pirog\/","title":{"rendered":"346 Am – Nick Pirog"},"content":{"rendered":"
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It goes to my voicemail and I leave a short message that I hope everything is going well and that I love her. She would have no way to contact me, other than email, and I think about my laptop. In my rush to get out of the house yesterday, I didn\u2019t think to grab it. I contemplate sneaking over to my dad\u2019s house to get it, then think better of it.<\/p>\n

Maybe tomorrow. Plus, Bonnie should have a computer. But first, I need to clean up and get some food. I step into the hall bathroom, relieve myself, then run water over my hands. I notice black smudges on the fingertips of my left hand and pause. I was fingerprinted. In my sleep. Of course, they would need to take elimination prints from everyone, but the idea this was done to me while comatose is eerie. Then I see it, on the palm of my opposite hand.<\/p>\n

A small heart. It was from Ingrid. Her way of telling me that if any funny business had been done to me while I was asleep, she was the one to do it. God, how I love that woman. I rub the black from my fingers, splash water on my face, and give myself a quick rub down with a hand towel. Then I sneak into Bonnie\u2019s master bath and find some mouthwash to rinse with.<\/p>\n

Feeling somewhat human again, I make my way to the kitchen and open the refrigerator. There is a Tupperware container with a pink post-it note on it: For Henry, Don\u2019t Touch. Bonnie, with the help of Isabel I presume, had whipped up a big pot of chili. I toss the Tupperware in the microwave, eat a banana, and gulp down a couple glasses of water while I wait, then take the chili to a small office where I assume Bonnie keeps her computer.<\/p>\n

It is 3:09 a.m. In the middle of a small desk is a laptop. I check my email but there is nothing from Ingrid. Then I check the news. It is absolute madness.<\/p>\n

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Copyright \u00a9 2016 Nick Pirog Smashwords Edition License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.<\/p>\n

1kitap1.com\/en :01 I push myself up in bed and glance at the clock on the dresser. 3:01 a.m. Friday, February 26th. Twenty-six degrees. Mostly Cloudy. There is something off about the clock. It\u2019s at an odd angle. And it\u2019s much closer to the edge than usual. It takes me another second to realize why.<\/p>\n

Just behind the clock, with a tiny paw half-extended, is the newest addition to the Bins family. Archie. The orange and tan striped kitten peers at me with wide eyes, then extends his paw to the clock. \u201cDon\u2019t do it!\u201d I shout. In the three short weeks since Archie came into our lives, he has broken three wine glasses, two picture frames, Ingrid\u2019s favorite coffee mug, and one Samsung Galaxy S6. He glares at me for a couple seconds, then extends his paw.<\/p>\n

The clock teeters on the edge of the dresser. \u201cArchie, don\u2019t.\u201d Another glare. Another push. \u201cSeriously, Archie, don\u2019t push it again.\u201d He pushes it again. It crashes to the floor. \u201cDammit, Archie!\u201d I push myself out of bed and pick up the clock. The LCD screen is shattered. I replace the clock and pick the three-month-old kitten off the dresser.<\/p>\n

I can still hold him in one hand. He might have the same green eyes as his tabby mother, but the I-solemnly-swear-I\u2019m-up-to-no-good twinkle certainly came from his father. I say, \u201cDude, you have to stop breaking stuff.\u201d He gazes up at me. Eyes huge. Little pink nose wrinkling. \u201cThat\u2019s not gonna work on me.\u201d His little mouth opens and he licks my thumb. It\u2019s so cute, my heart hurts a little.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all fun and games until you break another one of Ingrid\u2019s mugs,\u201d I tell him. \u201cThen you\u2019ll be living on the street, buddy.\u201d It\u2019s a bluff. If Archie has me wrapped around his pinkie, then he has Ingrid wrapped around his whole paw. The first week we had him, nearly every one of my sixty minutes awake was spent looking at pictures and videos Ingrid took of him the previous day.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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