Stories - FD Thornton

  After a surprisingly refreshing nap I hear the distant cry of an ambulance’s siren in the distance. Through the walls of the apartment, I hear the sounds of a cartoon playing in the living room. In the kitchen plans have already been made for tonight’s supper, while outside the slightest of breezes can be seen blowing through the first of springs leaves. As for me, I’m still in a sweater with my pull-on boat shoes, minus a boat. The walls of the study remain a lite tan color, with not a picture on the wall. With me sitting here recording in vivid detail the thoughts of a life, even my closest family don’t seem to care about. For my children find me inhospitable and grumpy, because of the cadence of my voice. Never thinking that’s just the way many of us were taught to speak to sound like a man. But more and more I feel like a man out of time. Separated by distance from all I ever really knew. Surrounded by a village of strangers, that never accepted me as one of their own. Leav...

  The sun is reflecting rather harshly off my monitor this morning. Leaving a faint ghostly reflection of myself pasted to the screen. It is a brisk cool morning hovering around 33° but still the sun is as bright as a spring morning. In this season of Ramadan and Lent, I suppose reflection and sacrifice are the name of the game. In my own mind thoughts of purging and reflection shine through in the many troubling dreams I’ve had over the past few weeks. Much like the dream I mentioned in my last writing “Dreams”, uncomfortable scenarios have been coming up in my mind. With individuals from my past and present I suppose teaching me lessons I need to learn. But such as it is with dreams for interpretation can be cloudy if anything at all. So I take each moment in stride and stay aware of my surroundings. Keeping in mind my present circumstance and the fears that often rise up. So in this season of reflection and giving, remember to always be grateful for what you have. Never abus...

  After dropping my pills and drinking my magic potion that keeps my poop stuck together. I stared out the window for a moment at the same glaring bright sun I did yesterday. I watched thousands of people in Times Square watch a glass ball drop to announce a New Year with a bunch of folks kissing and singing an old song they didn’t know the words to and then walk away. Outside I heard fireworks going off for the next half hour then it all seemed to go silent. While my wife lay next to me fast asleep. So here I am on this New Year’s Day with one bird chirping outside the window and hangover cast of Good Morning America talking through the walls. Beneath my computer monitor is a couple of bracelets I used to wear. One with glass beads and a craved blue turtle and another with wooden blocks with my children’s initials on them. Along with two glass turtles I brought at the Turtle Center years ago. All surrounded by various prescription drugs I stated and stopped taking over the past ...