Stories - FD Thornton

  I watch the wind twist the branches of a young sapling embedded in the pecan tree, while the sun brightens to the golden hue of dawn. I hear the calls of a morning dove mixing with the morning traffic and flushing of upstairs toilets. Not everything can be the quiet call of the morning. So things are the compromises we make in order to live in a civil society. But if you exist long enough, those noises become nothing more than the background noise of life. As I sit at my desk the sun’s glow stretches out across the study walls, reflecting off the beige paint onto the black screen. But I don’t mind, it’s all just a part of my morning routine. Today is inspection day, where all the apartments receive an annual cleanliness inspection. Which basically amounts to checking to see if you have any drug paraphernalia or at the very least, see that your apartment don’t smell like weed. Which I feel is kind of silly, since the breezeway smells like a pot dispensary. But the things you put...

  For whatever reason, I’ve gotten into the habit of taking selfies of myself. I know I’m about thirty years too late to jump on the bandwagon of that fad. But I figured, why not? For far too long I had/have such a poor self-image of myself, I figured what a better way to break that taboo than to take a selfie. So above the story is my latest selfie, wearing a favorite pink shirt, comfortable teal T-shirt. Although you can’t see them I’m wearing grey sweats and my favorite tie on sneakers. If you notice on my wrist are two bracelets, one I made with my kids initials and another that tracks sea turtles. I normally don’t wear the bracelets much anymore, they usually stay on my desk. But today with the sort of island vibe my clothes were giving off, I figured I’d put them on. Even though I’m some 100 miles away from any ocean. I don’t swim, I have a primal fear of water. Something I’m sure I’ll carry till the day I die. I respect the water, and I’ve ridden a many a mile on transport...

Google Gemini Here we are again in the middle of the night. Buried beneath the covers of the bed, with my bride gently snoring by my side. After a day of quiet tension I did my best to keep myself hidden. Away from the glaring lights of reality for most of the day. But after the lights went out, I buried my head into the conclusion of an audio book. That unexpectedly triggered some past and present trauma I thought I could avoid. I don’t blame the book, a recent autobiography that deals with a lot of physical and mental abuse. But still I kinda thought I had gotten over most of that, but listening to someone else’s truth showed me a mirror into some of that trauma still hidden within me. Still I pressed on and finished the audiobook knowing it had an encouraging ending. It’s just interesting to see how the seeds of your own dark past can be replanted from just a reflection. But like I said, I can’t blame the book for all of it. I walked into this situation already watering those seed...

  What spiritual power, if any, pulls the soul down to the lowest of lows? Some might say your sign is in retrograde, or that God Almighty is just teaching you another lesson, or that your chakras are out of alignment once again. Each one would entail that you as a person are weak and fell out of grace with whatever you believe. But after 27 years of being diagnosed with chronic depression, GAD, and a myriad of other mental illnesses, I choose to believe that it’s more than just another bad day. Or that somehow the gods are upset with me. Being the cognitive creatures that we are, we love to find a label for everything. But sometimes even the deeper sciences can’t explain the mental warfare going on in our heads. Is it environment or genetics that causes us to be bat shit crazy sometimes? But why can’t it be both. I feel the environment along with inherited physical traits have brought me to this point in my life. And before you start to pity me and say, “I’m glad my genes aren’t t...

  The sun takes flight above a sea of grey thunderous skies, while the tornado warning of the past few hours fades away. Opening the windows to my study I see the wind swirling in the branches, while birds come out to sing their songs. I’ve lived through tornados and hurricanes and the feeling the air presses on your chest and ain’t feeling any of that at the moment. So I guzzle down my witches brew and focus my ears on the sound of the field birds outside. Other than that it’s eerily quiet for a mid-week morning. The highway hardly makes a sound as my bride unloads the dish washer into the cabinets and drawers. Still an unfamiliar routine I have trouble wrapping my head around, considering the shotgun shack we lived in for ten years. But I do miss the openness and the backyard still, while the modern conveniences of hot running water more than compensate. It’s funny how life changes, yet often stays the same. My backyard now consists of a boundary fence overlooking a field of ...

 I didn’t realize until this morning that we had two Friday the 13 th in a row this year. I knew something was wrong with this year; but that doesn’t matter, this morning it is sunny and chill and outside life is just humming along down the Golden Isles Parkway. Also with the light breeze I can smell the scents of Spring after the pollen got knocked loose. With its aroma of freshness  that Glade or Febreze can’t quite copy. I’m sitting here in my frumpy old baggy golf shirt and sweatpants. The obvious uniform of a retiree with little money for new clothes. But wearing these things brings me some joy in the fact that a mere 10 years ago, I stretched this shirt and these pants to their load bearing limit. And while I have gained a few pounds back, let’s say the digestive issues did their job. Other than that, I’m in a pretty good mood with the sun shining and the world not seeming to be too bad around here. But it’s easy to isolate yourself when you live in such a work-driv...