DeEtta Miller
Bio
Found my "Voice" as a college student of forty-seven. Once a memoir was written, fiction, poetry and non-fiction became my passions.
Achievements (1)
Stories (32/0)
The Perfect Pear
It had to be done. It’s not as if he is the first boyfriend to “bite the dust.” But he was the best… How could he not understand? It’s college. I have been groomed for this moment, all my life. My parents have been packing the car for over an hour, and I have to be up North for orientation by this evening.
By DeEtta Miller3 years ago in Fiction
Going Home
Margaret waited until the coast was clear and pressed her frail body against the cold brick wall. She hoped if she made herself small, moved quickly and quietly, she could get to the front door un-detected. The long hall’s overhead lights were turned off to “conserve energy.” Or so the residents were told, when they pleaded to not be left alone in complete darkness. She suspected the lights were kept off so the night crew could sleep through their shifts. The only illumination for her flight, was the rusty green exit sign hanging over the porthole to her freedom. Tonight, Margaret was grateful for the green tinted darkness, that barely lit her way to the door. While enveloped in tinged shadows, Margaret, or Maggie as her beloved husband Ted called her, stopped to listen to the familiar sounds of the lonely night, one last time…
By DeEtta Miller3 years ago in Fiction
A Mari Gold by Any Other Name...
I hate my name! God, I hate my name! What were my “flower child” hippie parents thinking? I get it. It was the Sixties. Lots of kids were blessed or cursed, with names best suited for nature. I even have a friend named Rainbow! But my name is more like a lame pun, than a traditional name. There was even un-bridled snickering when my name was sweetly whispered over a baptismal fountain in church during my Christening. Is nothing sacred?
By DeEtta Miller3 years ago in Fiction
Wrapped Tightly And Hidden
What were you thinking, Mom? You had to have thought I would have had access to your closet, and so much more. If you wanted to continue to keep that part of your life a secret, why didn’t you just tear up and dispose of the contents of the brown paper package. You even re-tied the string that had kept it all a mystery for these last two decades. You must have realized that at the end of your beautiful life, I would be the keeper of the things that represented your full and vibrant existence.
By DeEtta Miller3 years ago in Fiction
Her Days Were Numbered
What I won’t do to make him happy! My needy insecurity is getting old. I had a perfectly good, some would say “great!” career in Frankfurt. I was the first woman CEO at an up-and-coming retailer. My wage had soared to six figures, and I had the local buyers eating out of my fiscally tight-fisted hands. Why would anyone step away from such a promising future you ask? For love. Pure love. At least I love him.
By DeEtta Miller3 years ago in Fiction
The Garden Variety Girl
To capture a memory, one must go back in time, whether they like it or not. This one, I do not… The year is vague, the episode of my life is clear, as if frozen in time. To opt to relive past pain may seem foolish if not necessary, but to visit the shadows of one’s life can perhaps help to better understand the why, and how of humanity. I am still in the “head scratching” phase of this quest.
By DeEtta Miller3 years ago in Humans