YESTERDAY

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"God damn it, Tig. You're just so fat," I laugh as Zack and I pry him from the pet door.

Once he's freed, Zack picks him up from the floor and cuddles him to his chest. He begins to babble to him as they walk toward the kitchen to his food bowl that I'm sure he's been missing.

I stare at the cat door, knowing he got through it only yesterday.

Something is off; something is wrong. I think and think and think of what is so different. Think of why my guts keep turning like they do.

But I come up short.

"Well, let's go back, Zack," I say, still not at peace with the situation.  

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