Wendy Fontaine is the 3rd place winner of Streetlight‘s 2023 Essay/Memoir Contest An itchy palm means you’re going to come into some money. That’s what my dad always said. Whenever the tingling sensation hit, we’d walk around our mobile home holding out our hands and scratching at the skin as if to say, look, the money could already be on its way. Back then, I chalked it up to Italian superstition, the overriding principle that we could cultivate luck by tossing salt over our shoulders or avoid trouble by steering clear of black cats and … Continue reading Dream House by Wendy Fontaine→
Streetlight: When did you become interested in art? Michael Powers: I have had an interest in artist expression from a very early age. Several of my grade school friends and I would get together at recess and on weekends and draw. Our subject matter was predominantly World War II–based, as all of our fathers had fought in the War, and it was the constant source of conversations in the lives of so many relatives and neighbors. I was chosen as one of twenty promising fourth graders, across Cleveland, to participate in a weekly … Continue reading Michael Powers: Honorable Mention in Streetlight’s 2023 Art Contest→
Five economic terms you should know Scarcity. The bar where I am drinking–because I have money–has more beer than it could give away but it won’t, even to the homeless guy who is standing by me, because how could you make money that way, so I myself give him a twenty for the five dollar cover and tell him to buy a beer with the rest. Supply and demand. This bar has 64 taps because they figure that’s how many taps can make them the most money. Statistically, the homeless don’t count. Opportunity cost. Maximizing … Continue reading Five economic terms you should know and The ring of Gyges, 2 poems by Casey Killingsworth→
As a child, when did you first become aware of air? It was probably as its manifestation in the mysterious force of wind. Indeed, we all have forgotten our first gasp at birth. I thought of this question as I drove through a dead-still morning when clouds brushed the top of my pick-up. The air was thick with moisture; not really raining, but enough water accumulated on the windshield to necessitate turning on the wipers every few miles. I thought it would be nice for the wind to sweep away this dark sniffling day. My … Continue reading Air is Wind is Song by Fred Wilbur→
The Widow Lowery would occasionally sleep with Mr. Oshiro. It was, in small-town parlance, a well-kept secret. Certainly, nothing in Mr. Oshiro’s nature tempted him to tell anyone. He’d lived in this pit-stop borough off the interstate for more than ten years. In all that time, he struggled with his adopted language. One who understood him, though, was the youthful postmaster and aspiring city councilman, Mr. Garrity, with whom Mr. Oshiro had regular business. Every week, Mr. Oshiro, who made a living doing odd jobs, would seek the postmaster’s assistance with some kind of package. … Continue reading Special Delivery by Daniel Pié→
Emma Knight’s imaginary gardens and landscapes picture magical worlds of color and exotic plants in mysterious, lush settings. They evoke Eden-like terrain with nods to Southern forests of hanging moss and steamy states with snakes climbing trees or slithering for cover. “My latest pieces,” says Knight, “have definitely been based on Henri Rousseau’s jungle paintings with a little taste of sci-fi TV too. These paintings can be interpreted as visits to other planets or as other life forms visiting us here on earth. Our recent invasion (of sorts) dealing with aerosols, our changing … Continue reading 2023 Art Contest Winner Shows at Chroma Gallery Until August 26→
I sit at the bar at Café Un, Deux, Trois on West 43rd and cross my legs and swivel toward the room glass of wine in hand nylons shining skirt above my knee. I cross my legs and the heel of my shoe slides off just a bit as I raise my toe up and down. I catch a man’s eye at one table then another. I have what they desire but will not get. Mother of two, forty-plus married in the burbs. I love making them want it. It sets me up for the … Continue reading Desire by Molly McKaughan→
Judging a flash-fiction contest is like being let loose in a tapas bar—without the discomfort afterwards. This year’s entries did not disappoint, offering a wide array of fully crafted bite-sized delicacies, making choosing favorites incredibly difficult. We are grateful for every story we read and thank each of our contestants for sharing their talents. We will be running the winning entries in a later issue but in the meantime are pleased to announce “Little Vova*” by P. W. Bridgman for first place, “Unzipped“ by Sheri Reynolds for second, and Jo Riglar’s “Waterfall“ for third. … Continue reading Flash Fiction Winners – 2023→
The Saint Francis Center is hopping this morning, people lined up all jive and jest the addicts and drunks and misfits file in and out, raw around the edges after a weekend of bingeing the guy in the wheelchair out front seems to be singing an opera tune, the high notes run away from him on little feet, dancing down the block the geraniums in their pots flanking the doors wilt from abuse, their dirt used for more and more and more cigarette butts, an urban ashtray above the city din, the air ringing with … Continue reading Richmond, Monday Morning by Debbie Collins→
Among rural Piedmont foothills, coves of the gentle Blue Ridge Mountains, is where I live. There is no incorporated town in the county; the courthouse town has but a few hundred residents. As internet access reaches into the remotest corners and the local newspaper sees its circulation numbers dwindle, it is fortunate that an online Facebook group has been set-up as a community bulletin board. No substitute for Moose Lodge dances, a church chitterling dinner or a Fourth of July parade, but the group serves to disseminate information, both of a general and a particular … Continue reading Reaching Out by Fred Wilbur→
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