Election, Protection, and a Dollar Bill’s Worth of Affection
I stared at the bulletin board outside the mail room, heart racing. A flush picked its way across my skin. I peeked down at the letter, its familiar script pulsing with possibility in my palm. Students jockeyed around me. He really had written. The words Student...
I.Qed Enough for College?
I glanced at the board four feet from my desk in Intro to College Math. I chose this seat five days ago on my first day of college so I’d have to pay attention. The left side of my brain liked to loll around and do nothing. I couldn’t afford to indulge its sloth if I...
Matriculating and Motherhood
Mom and I motored southwest on I-4, diagonally bisecting Florida with our Plymouth Duster crammed full of my clothes, plants, posters, Peanuts sheets I’d swiped from R.J.—all my possessions and possibilities. New Smyrna Beach lay behind us, the place I’d always call...
The Happiest Graduation
Saturday, June 3, 2017, was one of the happiest days of my life. I graduated from Wilkes University with a master’s of arts in creative writing. A dream come true. Most of my kids were able to attend the ceremony and one of them shaved off his beard for my graduation...
Portrait of a Graduation
A wet breeze ruffled my red, white and blue tassel as I stood behind the bleachers with a clipboard, lining up my classmates for graduation—my last duty as vice president of the New Smyrna Beach High School Class of 1976. Ordinary kids from small-town, ocean-side...
Pieces of Perfect
While swimming double workouts—AAU and high school—and plowing through the Orangebelt Conference swim season, Paul Grabiak’s perfect pecs popped into my peripheral vision. Senior prom had come and gone without my attending, despite the promises of the...
Keg Party Virgins
I jostled on the seat of the big brown Impala as we bounced over a rut. Excitement fluttered in my stomach. Our first keg party. Jackie Herold gripped the steering wheel tighter and peered down the beam of her headlights. We’d lurched off the smooth, sand road onto a...
Homecoming 1975
I tapped my foot and stared at the triangle of skin between James Knox’s brows and the top of his sunglasses—red-framed today. “What’s your answer?” I clenched my arms across my waist. “You’ve kept me hanging for a week.” He dropped his head, sighed, faced me. “Yeah,...
Best Freak Accident of My Life
David Lossing peered at me through his glasses, mad professor hair springing from his scalp. “The same kids have been running the class since middle school. Pick an office. I don’t care which. Just throw your name into the race.” I’d only attended New Smyrna Beach...
Lessons Learned from Billy’s Busted Leg
I gripped Eric Bensen’s room number in my fist and scanned the digits that stretched down the shiny Fish Memorial Hospital hall. Eric, one of last year’s crushes, landed in the hospital after a lawn mower accident. He was probably bummed and worried about running...
Best Boyfriend in New Smyrna Beach
Mike Zwicker, covered in golf-course grime from his summer job, stood under the eaves of the New Smyrna Beach rec center chatting with me, making no move to commandeer his ornery little brother, Steve, into the car. Warm rain bucketed down beside us, misting my skin,...
A Crappy Summer Turns a Corner
I jerked upright out of a sound sleep. My newly broken ankle squawked in complaint. I peered at the sliver of streetlight slitting through the window and stilled my breath. Nothing. Well, nothing but the sound of Ralph sawing sequoia-sized logs in the next room. I...
A Puce-Colored Foot
Lisa DeNauro’s compact, muscular body whipped feet-over-head—a blur of red leotard, freckled skin, and blonde hair. Her palms sprung off the vaulting horse, flinging her into a perfect round off. She nailed the landing and tossed her hands toward the New Smyrna Beach...
Pot, God, and Going Home
David Lossing stood in a circle of light at Disney World Fort Wilderness Campground. He jutted his chin toward the furthest tent in our M.A.S.H.-like village stuffed with more than fifty members of New Smyrna Beach High School’s Spanish Club. “I’m headed to the party...
Coveting Cheerleader Cool
I angled up on my elbows from my beach towel, slack-jawed like Susan Sigler and Jackie Herold as we watched a jumble of high school jocks gambol through the surf. Their guffaws and your mamas grazed the sand toward us. We knew their names—had sat in Algebra or Biology...
About Ann
Ann Lee Miller holds a BA and MFA in creative writing. She teaches university writing courses online for Grand Canyon University. She’s lived in Ohio, Indiana, Arizona, and Oregon but left her heart in Florida where she grew up. Over 100,000 copies of her five novels have been downloaded from Amazon. She is hard at work on a memoir-novel about growing up on a sailboat. When she’s not embroiled in a crisis–real or imagined–you’ll find her hiking with her husband or meddling in her kids’ lives.
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