Stories - FD Thornton

  You know, it’s hard to focus on your writing when you’ve got silly things on your mind. Like remembering to pick up some magnesium citrate tablets instead of those damn magnesium oxide tablets at the pharmacy. (Yes, there is a difference). Or remembering to pick up some Vitamin E capsules at that same pharmacy. All while trying to remember that the damn place doesn’t open until 11 o’clock but closes at 1:30 for lunch. Why such a tight window? I mean, how in the hell am I supposed to remain inspired while watching a damn clock? Well, it’s been three hours since that first paragraph was completed. Since then, I went to the pharmacy, got gas, shopped for vitamins at WalJacks, and brought my wife and son some KFC. (I don’t eat chicken on the bone). Then I came home, ate lunch, and put the pills up. Now I’m ready to write… right? Even though the candle has been lit, it doesn’t mean the inspiration is magically there. It often takes a little time to “get in the mood.” For a journey...

  Opening the windows to the bright sunshine this morning. There was still a layer of fog draped over the ground of the pecan grove next door. Earlier this morning while me and my bride get dressed, I usually glance at my phone to see if I had any messages from the night before. Among the messages was one in particular from a lovely woman who’s poetry I admire and have come to know. Mind you, I keep no secrets from my bride, and she knows the name of nearly every person I communicate with online. Well after reading her lovely note I flirted a bit and said, “All that’s missing was a photograph”. Which she sent a picture of her at her desk. I sent her back a note say, if any man didn’t appreciate waking up to that in the morning, they were a damn fool. Then I said, that I basically wake up every morning appreciating the woman I wake up with, and wished for her the same. Then, I assume to some of yours surprise, I showed the picture and what I wrote to my Bride. Which she in turn sa...

  After a weird night and a rough morning, I’m finally back to the tranquility of staring at a blank screen. For some writers that may seem like a daunting task. But after a morning of funky dreams and chasing “ghosts in the machine”. I’m more than ready to create something out of nothing. Now that I know the probable cause for why my phone and laptop are acting up. I now have an actionable plan that I’ll use later. It’s the unknown that often runs a thousand scenarios in my head that causes me stress. It sometimes makes me long for the days when I simply popped a pill and numbed the stress away. But I don’t do that now and sometimes stress comes at me like a bullet. But the isolation and relative quiet do help, although the relative calm can still give way to scrambling discomfort. So I’ve learned to except those parts of myself that are broken. Healing them through compassion and acknowledgement that they are there. Trying to ignore a problem only amounts to sweeping dirt under a...

  The day’s starting out pretty nice with the clouds out of the southeast with the sun peeking brightly from behind. They cast a golden halo across the edge of the clouds that now gives way to the brighter sun. With the curtains pulled back and the windows up, I’m once again dress like I work for the DOT with a orange t-shirt and an old Chambray shirt over it. Earlier while my wife was taking a shower, she called me in to help her wash her hair. You see, her disabilities often causes her to forget things. Silly little things you and I can easily recall, but she often can’t.   So after I helped her with the shampoo and conditioner, I left her to finish her shower. I bring this up not so much to talk about dealing with a loved one’s disabilities. As much as being aware of the patience and grace we must have as caregivers. Listen I’ll be the first to tell you I get frustrated and even mad at both my wife and son. But also I do my damnest to keep my cool, especially when the two...

  The rays of the morning sun are shining brightly through the particles of dust showering the room. Like tiny little white flakes of sunshine they dance on the air. Now you might say that’s a very poetic way to describe a nasty room that needs dusting or the fact that our HVAC filter needs changing. But such as it is, on this bright and cold December morning. Still I’m here chewing up the last of my gummy vitamins, a small reward for taking all my morning medication. Last night I dreamed of frost covered cats and a hungry young family, that me and my wife fed out of there need. It appeared in the dream that we lived on top of a run down gas station in a small rural town. But the mother and her small children were appreciative of what we could give. While I warmed the half-frozen cats under the covers of our bed. I think the dream came out of our own experience of being a young and poor family. While the cats and the old cold home came from the last ten years of our lives. But ...

  The skies are turning a little greyer despite the bright cloudless skies of the morning. Outside a lone bird chirps as he or she digs along the ground. I’ve already revised and posted a story for Substack and even wrote a poem. Right now I’m just letting my train of thought take me on a journey…destination nowhere. So I breathe in and out, close my eyes, and clasp my hands in a prayer like gesture. Opening the door to wherever my mind wants to go.   With the background noise of my son clapping his hands and humming and my wife watching “The Pioneer Woman” preparing meals my wife will never cook. Still with just an ounce of disillusionment, my mind ponders the next crisis between my two roommates. So I settle back into my sanctuary with the noise coming out of both the walls and ceiling. It’s a lonely life, yes. To live inside your head. But that’s the price you pay for the love and indoctrination you endured since you were a child. But when your raised on absolutes like ...

  I just popped my gummy vitamins into my mouth; they are the treat I give myself after taking my pills. In the distance I can hear an ambulance taking one of my fallen brothers or sisters to the hospital. Out here in the wild frontier of the slow moving South, we play by a different set of rules. Some of us listen to our doctors, while some of us don’t. Some of us hedge our bets against a Preacher or faith, while some of us raise hell till our dying breath.   Here in this house we’ve done a little bit of it all. Singing Hallelujah! While raising cane with the same breath. I’ve never professed to be a Guru or a Shaman or a Preacher for that matter. Even though I come from a long lineage of Christ following men. But the other side of my family also studied chakras and practiced folk magic. So I’m a mixed up product of all those things, wrapped up in a bag of loose skin and bones; with one foot Praising Jesus! And the other following Zen.     So you may ask, what i...

  After a few troublesome dreams last night and my wife setting off every smoke detector in the house several times cooking an egg. I’ve lost whatever peaceful mood or low blood pressure I had this morning. I could go on about it with her disabilities and frequent forgetfulness, but I won’t. I just attend to the problem then go back to my office and chill. The sun looks like it’s finally coming out after several days of grey. I even hear the birds chirping along with the cast of Murder She Wrote going over a Clue-like murder scenario. But I don’t mind, as long as she leaves that damn oven vent running. I’m not sure what I was going to talk about this morning. Other than every “Spidey sense” in my body has been tingling since I know we have a apartment manager inspection sometime today. I’m reminded of the times we lived in the “projects” and we would have random “inspections” where they went through every dresser drawer and personal item looking for “cleanliness”, when all it rea...

  It was a pleasant dream, your family had gathered for a friends baby shower . And I had arrived early in the attempt to sneak you away for a little while. So I grabbed your hand and we went away to our hidden place. Where we kissed and caressed and found solace in each other’s arms like two young people in love. But as usual our time was short when we were found by your sisters and friends. Pull away by them by the urgency that there wouldn’t be a party without you. So I woke up a bit disappointed by the whole thing. Watching my desires to be with you alone stolen away by the obligations of a life lived without each other. So here I am trepidatiously penning such hidden secrets down on a screen with the possibility that the whole world could see. But do we really care anymore? Do we really care what other people think? I mean, our reputations were thrown out the window decades ago. By our alleged affairs , poor life choices, and rumored hidden agendas. Sound familiar? Well it s...