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Back 3 a.m.
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  67. 3:46 a.m.

I’m tempted to open the basket and dive in to some cheese and crackers, but since Ingrid had the self-control not to attack it, I suppose I can muster some as well. Instead, I grab some leftover Thai food from the fridge — Isabel had yet to stock the fridge — and throw it in the microwave.

I do push-ups and sit-ups while it heats, and it feels good to get back into a bit of routine.

I take the food to the table and I get on my laptop for the first time since I was on Google Earth and stumbling on the OPIC building.

I check my stocks, make a couple tweaks, and then log into my email.

I have two emails.

The first is from [email protected], and it takes me a moment to remember I sent an email to myself right before I was set to have my memory erased.

I click it open and read it.

Dear Henry,

You wrote this email to yourself. Hopefully it hasn’t taken you too long to relearn how to read. I wish I could write you fifty pages, taking you through the last thirty-seven years, explaining how we got here, and why we made the decision we made, but the clock is ticking, and I’ll be honest, I’m writing this with one hand and it’s taking forever.

Do me a favor and Google “Henry Bins.” This is you. This condition is named after you. Crazy, huh? One hour a day. Seems like it would be impossible to live being awake just one hour a day. Now that you are normal, now that you are awake for as long as you like, it might be hard to imagine packing sixteen hours of life into sixty short minutes. Yet somehow, you not only lived, you thrived. But it wouldn’t have been possible without one man, your dad.

I wish I could tell you all the great things this man did for you, all the sacrifices he made so your one hour a day could be amazing. How he spent nearly his entire day awake trying to think of ways to make your one hour as educational, as fun, and as normal as possible. Love this man for all he’s worth. As for Ingrid, how hot is she? We really knocked it out of the park on this one. If she followed my instructions, then she has spent many hours telling you stories about how we met and fell in love. Marry this woman. Have children with this woman. And never, ever, take her for granted. Not for one minute. Not for one second. If there is anyone who should know how valuable one second is, it’s you.