My Thanks

Okay, and one more story. So this was around Thanksgiving last year that the prompt came up about a writing intervention. Since we're getting closer to that season I might as well post this one.

                I have never liked Thanksgiving. Bland food and boring company make me want to open a vein and end it all in a way that only the fights surrounding Christmas can compare to. I used to give in to convention and spend it with my family, then one year my mom gave me a typewriter, we were poor so no word processor or anything like that, and I fell in love. It became my tradition that once the drudgery was over I would slip away and write what I was thankful for and share it with no one. Over time my life became about writing and the dead end jobs that I worked to allow myself to get by until I am discovered.

                Now there is some grey in my beard and I live life on my own terms, sort of. Six years ago I decided I wasn’t doing Thanksgiving with the family anymore. I spent the night alone, writing and eating turkey curry from an Indian place down the street. This year I gave in though, I gave in when Joe and his new wife invited me over. Joe is my best friend, and a friend of the family so I knew at least my mom would be there. I was not expecting an ambush.

                Joe’s wife let me in, I always think of her as Joan because she’s a curvy redhead, and in a pun on my friend’s name. I didn’t smell any food, but then Joe wasn’t much of a cook. When I was led into the living room I saw Joe, Frank, Bobbi-Jo, my mom, my grandmother and a handful of other friends. Over their heads hung the Intervention sign above the mantle. I sighed, it was going to be one of those nights.

                “Getting right to the point you spend too much time writing.” That was Joe, scrawny little punk always has something to say. “If you were to make a living at it we might be able to accept that.”

                “I always have money.” My only possible response.

                “That isn’t from writing. I wish I’d never given you that typewriter! You ignore your family and friends for your fantasy worlds.” That was my mom of course.

                “I just don’t like most of you that much.” Time to be honest I guess.

                “You never go out, and you don’t have a girlfriend.” That was Frank, he should shut up more.

                “I have women when I want them.”

                “They aren’t real sugarplum.”

                That last was my grandma, god I hate her. What I said was true. I’m never broke, and I have women when I want them. You see, what I write always comes true. Six years ago I wrote how thankful I was that I wouldn’t spend Thanksgiving with friends or family for five years. It wasn’t enough. This year I’m going to have to write how thankful I am for the tragic chain of events that killed all my nearest and dearest.

#anger #comedy #magic #shortstory