Christine Wilcox is the 1st place winner of Streetlight‘s 2025 Flash Fiction Contest “I’m not doubting you,” the Angel said to the Demon. “But why can’t you just resubmit the application? Surely if she’s as bad as you claim—” “Look!” the Demon said. “She’s melting even more cheese on her pizza.” The Angel watched the woman drop a handful of shredded cheese into the air fryer, where she’d placed a leftover slice of pizza. “Hmm,” he said. “She’s taken care of her body otherwise, though.” He paged through the papers on his clipboard. “Is she lactose intolerant?” … Continue reading A Special Place in Hell by Christine Wilcox→
Years ago, before I decided to bite the bullet and embrace the soul crushing rejection that often goes with Being A Writer, I decided to try my hand at substitute teaching. I realized my mistake almost immediately. Part of the problem was Miss T., a school secretary who’d call before the sun rose to line-up her fill-ins. She scared the hell out of me. And not just because she carried herself like a linebacker. Shed done an on-the-spot personality assessment to determine how best to keep me in her stable—correctly settling on a combo of … Continue reading The Wrong Turn On My Career Path, From Which I’m Still Recovering A Quarter Century Later by Erika Raskin→
I am back in Seoul after a fourteen-hour flight, fresh off the airport shuttle and into the city center, at the Nine Tree Hotel check-in desk. It’s a square area on the fifth floor of the building, with moon jars balancing stems of white orchids, their swirling shapes reflected on the marble floors. I had left my condo, a haven of peace in Montreal, frantically clutching my iPhone. For two weeks, I had waited for a message or a call from Jun. But he’d ghosted me. Once I parked the carry-on in the tall, walnut-panelled wardrobe, … Continue reading The Secret Garden by Irina Moga→
The school bus is squeaking past again, there’s a pumpkin/watermelon cage match in the produce aisle and — most critically — the annual influx of dynamite entries in Streetlight’s flash fiction contest have been read! As before, the judges were gifted with glimpses of whole worlds built a mere five hundred words at a time. Some captured the quotidian, others, terror; some broke our hearts and a few, too, were laugh-out-loud funny. (You’ll see.) All of which means that picking winners was freaking hard. We are not talking about a bridge design competition which … Continue reading It’s Fall (ish) And The Flash Fiction Results Are In! by Erika Raskin and Mary Esselman→
Trixie Dougan Bijou Bellman was my mom’s dachshound when she was a kid. Though extremely short, Trixie had a rich and independent life. She walked around their Minneapolis neighborhood, giving wide berth to the front yard of Mrs. Sinclair whose reputation as a witch had clearly been conveyed cross-species.The abbreviated pet traveled an impressive circuit that included a stop at my great aunt and uncle’s place for some type of biscuit. This was apparently surprising in that, according to my grandfather, my uncle was notoriously tight. (Grandpa swore his brother-in-law bought one top shelf … Continue reading What Do Dogs Do All Day? by Erika Raskin→
You and your wife are sitting in your therapist’s waiting room. You look at the door, paranoid that someone you know will come in and you’ll attempt to cover up your embarrassment with small talk—small talk in a small town—your voice quavering in that high-pitched lilt that broadcasts your self-consciousness, with your oblique attempts at humor that only you chuckle at. And not talk about why you’re here, though you’ll know that he’ll know why you’re each here, and you will both wonder what, precisely, is the other’s why. And then you will have … Continue reading We All Have Our Problems E. H. Jacobs→
I’d thank the heavens my shift is over but I can’t think straight long enough to do it. I don’t even remember pulling past the gates of the complex, and the rising sun shining in my eyes is making it harder to stay awake—go figure. My body feels like it’s shutting down as I drive over the speed limit on HWY 20, desperate to make it home—desperate for bed. Time slips and I’m back at the factory, spinning caps on bottles at thirty a minute, decked head to toe in heavy choking plastic, drenched … Continue reading HWY 20 at 30 Bottles a Minute by M. R. Whitt→
Two years ago, in the pocket of time between Thanksgiving and the onslaught of holiday chaos, I spent a week with my grandmother, Mimi, at her home on St. Simons Island. She had been feeling a little off—her words, not mine—and welcomed the company. Under her astute and vigilant direction, I cooked her favorite dinners, recorded a podcast episode about her life, and rubbed her feet while we watched TV procedurals in the evenings. Mostly, she rested. But on Thursday she got antsy. She wanted to go out to dinner. So we did. We ended … Continue reading Talk To Strangers by Bree Luck→
In June of 2007, I watched the movie Once with you. We’d rented the DVD from Blockbuster, the way people did then. We were twenty-one, so dinner meant sharing a bag of corn chips, drinking Coronas, and sitting on that funky old couch I bought cheap at an estate sale. That was back when we were still a couple living together in Seattle, and we’d only ever been with each other, and we loved each other, but we wondered what else was out there. And in the movie Once, two musicians meet in Dublin, a … Continue reading Mulioo Tebe by Clare Rolens→
My writing mantra used to be, Fine is good enough. I made sure whatever I sent out was the best it could be. However, I worked fulltime and was the primary caretaker for three children. When I finished a manuscript, I checked for issues, then hit “send” before anyone came down with croup, required a ride to music lessons, or needed four zillion forms signed. I never lingered at the finish line, which meant some manuscripts went out not quite fully polished. You’ve heard of the tyranny of the urgent? Those years, I happened to … Continue reading Don’t Arrive Before You Get There by Deborah M. Prum→
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