Tag Archives: Fall 2024

Midnight by Cyndy Muscatel

Photo of sand dunes with person walking across them
 

Cyndy Muscatel is the 1st place winner of Streetlight’s 2024 Flash Fiction Contest   Dressed only in her pajamas and Ugg slippers, Rebecca grabbed the parka off the hook and flung it over her shoulders. The weather had turned cold right after Thanksgiving–outside the wind had picked up, scattering leaves and tossing snowflakes hither and thither. She shivered, castigating herself for leaving her book bag in the car. How forgetful could she get? She must have been in a hurry last night when she came home from work. She knew better than to leave anything … Continue reading Midnight by Cyndy Muscatel

Holidays by Dominik Slusarczyk

Photo of group of red pegs and one black peg
 

Dominik Slusarczyk is the 2nd place winner of Streetlight’s 2024 Flash Fiction Contest   We stay up all night drinking. When we eventually crawl into our tents the sun is already half way up. the rest of our party are getting up, ready to start their day, as we finish ours. —- “Being awake during the day is better” Jim says. There are multiple sizzling frying pans on the fire behind him. We are cooking bacon, eggs, steaks, anything the people cooking could find. The smell of the food fills the air and makes my … Continue reading Holidays by Dominik Slusarczyk

The red onion by Deborrah Corr

pile of red onions
 

Deborrah Corr has earned an Honorable Mention in Streetlight’s 2024 Poetry Contest The red onion is a purple globe. I hold it, let my skin adore its slick, smooth contours. Then I bear down with a knife. A slice reveals a maze. No, I’ve misspoken. I’m mistaken. There are no passages with doorways through which you wander, puzzled how to get to the center and find your way back again. Just white corridors, inescapable layers, lined in lilac. Rotating, arriving always where you started. I begin to think monotony. I think hospital hallways, blank anxiety. … Continue reading The red onion by Deborrah Corr

For Albemarle’s Sam Abell, Photographs Come from Within. By Russell Hart


 

  The first thing Sam Abell entreats his workshop students to do is imagine their photographs without a primary subject. “I cover up the subject with my hand and ask, is there still a photograph under here?” says the celebrated National Geographic photographer, who has lived just west of Charlottesville for going on fifty years. “The answer, almost always, is no.” That can be a tough lesson for eager photographers, but it’s easier to swallow coming from such a calm and sympathetic teacher. It makes a difference, too, that Abell has always practiced what he … Continue reading For Albemarle’s Sam Abell, Photographs Come from Within. By Russell Hart

It’s Done, Beautifully Again by Tim Suermondt

Several boats floating down a river in a darkening sky
 

Tim Suermondt has earned an Honorable Mention in Streetlight’s 2024 Poetry Contest It’s Done, Beautifully Again My wife, Pui Ying, shows me her latest poem “I hope I did what I wanted to do here.” What she did do is stark and lush, an abandoned castle, and a boulevard teeming with revelers opening the reserve of morning, a welcoming— how difficult it is to merge a heartache with a gratitude and make it work, on the page as well as in life. I tell her I may be stealing some of her images—the old dynasty … Continue reading It’s Done, Beautifully Again by Tim Suermondt