Stories - FD Thornton

  On this quiet morning there’s not a sound coming from anywhere. The sun is as bright as it can be in the southern sky. Even the birds are in silent reverence to this often misunderstood holiday. But today I’m feeling a bit lightheaded. For the past few days my body is going back into a “no hunger” mode again. It’s where my body isn’t sending me the usual signals that it is hungry. Instead it’s only when I begin to feel dizzy and out of sorts that I realize I need to eat. But thankfully the little bit of sugar in my decaf coffee is kicking in to keep me from passing out. It's just another strange little detail in my chemically induced existence that science or my doctors can’t explain. So I attuned with my body through my silent meditations. Listening to what nature and my own body has to say. Where I used to panic about such things, now I’ve learned to just go with the flow. It’s not that I ignore my body, quite the contrary, I listen and become proactive in repairing it. A chi...

  It’s quite the gloomy scene outside my window, with blueish-grey skies looking like they’re ready to cry. As for me I’m not feeling as blue, for one I got a pretty good nights sleep. Without the crazy heavy dreams of the past few days. While it’s very warm for this time of year, I still feel a crispness in the air with more moisture than I’m used to feeling in late November. Sitting here in a thin cotton t-shirt I don’t ask myself how I am feeling today. Fearing that I might not like the answer on such a strange November morning. So I observe the silence of the outside, taking in the slightest hint of pinestraw in the air. It’s definitely not an unfamiliar smell for me. Considering the piles of pinestraw, me and my family had to rake and burned in the yard over the fall. Even now outside of the small towns that dot the area. Pine trees are big business with many a tree farms labeled and owned my farmers and paper mills alike. I was never privy to the life of a tree farmer or an...

  Fluent in the art of deflection I’ve lived my life shaping a narrative of strength and decisiveness. While on the inside lived a frightened little boy without the confidence to live the life he dreamed. That’s a mighty big confession to make on what is my 63rd birthday. A day in many ways shouldn’t had happened. Those might sound like harsh and cold words, but they are words I say with honesty, without hesitation or fear. As some of you may know, I’m given to moments of melancholy. So excuse my bluntness and gloom. While you meet me in person you may think, he’s a witty old fellow. Know it’s an image I where with some degree of pride that carefully covers the hidden fears of a verbally abused child. It’s hard to grow up in a nice working-class home, with a bike and a whole neighborhood to play in. Yet beneath all the “Wonder Years” were the hidden dangers of bullies and verbal abuses that no undertow of suburbia could erase. So I got smart, very smart and created a laissez-fa...

  I feel unusually heavy this morning, I slept in a little late while having two more strange vivid dreams last night. But it’s Sunday morning and it’s time to call my father-in-law and talk about whatever’s on his mind. It’s never much about what we talk about, either about his grandkids or great grandkids. Or how the Bulldogs did in Saturday’s game. Afterwards I was all talked out, then my son showed up to give me his take on Saturday’s games. Leaving me a bit out of breath, despite my decades of practice at running my mouth. But to be honest, the days of carrying on long aimless conversations are gone. It’s like when I am at rest, I feel pretty good. My heart’s not pounding, and my respiration is good. But the minute I get up to do a simple chore like sweep the floor or cook dinner. Not long after beginning I have to quit and catch my breath. With my brain firmly stuck in pre-CHF mode, I think I can do most anything. Then while doing something as simple as taking a shower, I n...

  You know, I was all partially excited to get started writing today. I’d even go as far as to say inspired, to start writing. But then the drudgery of opening the curtains then the windows and turning on the computer then taking my medicine….just seemed to kill the vibe. But then looking down at how well I’d matched my outfit without even trying, seemed to perk me right up. So welcome to my day! Sitting here 14 days into November, my birthday month, with my semi-matching shorts and windbreaker, with a very faded red and grey striped shirt in my ever present white ankle socks. I look like I should be walking down a beach somewhere on an East Coast sunrise. But sadly, I’m suck in my office with that same bright morning sun bleeding through the windowpanes. Feeling slightly inebriated from a lack of food or caffeine. I gather up all my medicine bottles and drinking cups and head to the bedroom and kitchen to deposit all my wears and grab my phone. Back at my desk I’ve been re-ins...