Author Archives: Leslie F. Miller

 

The Death Writer: Monday Mourning: The Death of a Father

Check out my interview here. The Death Writer: Monday Mourning: The Death of a Father: I like to break things and put them back together in a random, yet tasteful, order. I am the author […]

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divots

My breasts are too big.  Professionals from the age of 11, they skipped their training and went right to the C cup. When I flash on growing up with my breasts, I remember mostly humiliating […]

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the work of art

The function of your organs is not dependant upon a Picasso centered above the sofa. You will, indeed, breathe without a bound set of pages filled with well-constructed lines of words about a wheelbarrow and […]

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the magnitude

My father would have been 76 today. One of the biggest challenges about my father, second only to being a passenger in the car he was driving, was buying him presents. Usually, we’d combine his […]

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don’t work for free. period.

Your toilet is clogged, and you’ve called a plumber. “Is this Bob the Plumber?  Yes, I have a clogged toilet. I want you to come and fix it. In exchange, I will put a sign […]

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unguessed miseries (reprise)

Tonight, in my kitchen, we reminisced with friends about our camping experiences and remembered, many of us incorrectly, a night that featured a bloody t-shirt.  My daughter observed that I’m always sick while traveling, and […]

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you move me.

I loved a tree.  Correction: I love the tree, though it’s been dead a long time.  And despite the fact that it was chopped down today, its logs hauled away, I will continue to love […]

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and jesus was his name-o

When my daughter, Serena, graduated from our neighborhood Christian preschool, I was less relieved that she was kindergarten material than I was that the number of holiday recitals would dwindle.  I had attended three years […]

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3. enjoy beer.

Were I a writer of odes, I’d dedicate a book of them to my beverage of choice.  O, the bitter bite of hops, the sting of bubbles on my tongue, the heady scent of yeast […]

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2. call bullshit

I call bullshit where I see it, and I’m not going to stop, despite the letters from a motivational speaker disguised as The Universe, despite Internet memes that spread like a plague of Airwick flowers, […]

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