Our new Sleep Number bed tracked our sleep time, respirations, heartbeat, duration you were in bed, each time you got up, and a variety of information that tracked your sleep pattern and gave you a number for how well you slept.
Gigantic waste of money but Linda wanted it, so it was purchased.

The upside of this pricey bed was it showed each side of the bed, mine and Linda’s. I’m a lousy sleeper and my “sleep score” consistently showed low 60’s. Linda’s slept well into the 90’s.
Every third 24-hours, I worked at the fire department. I could check my phone, see how well Linda slept. I could also see that someone, with a sleep score of 88, was sleeping on my side of the bed. “Mr. 88,” was often there about 2 hours, from 10PM to midnight when I was on shift.
One of my buddies covered my position at the station, so I could go home and catch the guy. I slipped into my darkened house and crept to the bedroom. I aimed my gun at the lump on my side of the bed and emptied the clip. Linda SCREAMED! Lights on. Damn. Just shot my dog.
This story appears as part of Seven Deadly Sins, a PUNK NOIR Magazine series, originally published July 2025.
Bio
Patrick Kendrick is the author of American Ripper, Papa’s Problem, The Savants, Extended Family, Acoustic Shadows, and Edison’s Last Breath.
PUNK NOIR, the online literary and arts magazine that looks at the world at its most askew, casting a bloodshot eye over the written word, film, music, television and more.
Subscribe for a regular dose of hard-boiled flash fiction, straight to your inbox.
Ouch!
Good thing he didn't shoot poor Linda!