I glanced at Jackie’s kitchen clock shaped like a frying pan. Twenty minutes till I had to exit the warmth—literal and figurative—for my unheated house. I wanted to soak up every second. Jackie’s Uncle Louie Kistner, only a few years older than we were, shuffled the...
The smallest bridge in New Smyrna Beach, rising less than six feet from Washington Street, might as well have been the Sunshine Skyway over Tampa Bay. My shoulders bunched with tension and my knuckles whitened on the stick shift as I eyed the first “hill” in my...
I eyed delicious, and definitely off the market, Danny Pignato across the school bus bench. The bedlam around me faded like I’d landed in a movie. The hour between Stuart Middle School and Jupiter was a long time to avoid all that cuteness. Too long, it turned out....
Photo by Maria Carrasco The smallest bridge in New Smyrna Beach, rising less than six feet from Washington Street, might as well have been the Sunshine Skyway over Tampa Bay. My shoulders bunched with tension and my knuckles whitened on the stick shift as I eyed the...
I glanced at Jackie’s kitchen clock shaped like a frying pan. Twenty minutes till I had to exit the warmth—literal and figurative—for my unheated house. I wanted to soak up every second. Jackie’s Uncle Louie Kistner, only a few years older than we were, shuffled the...
