I like to play around on the piano, though I’m no pro. What I don’t enjoy is pausing to turn pages, or worse, spreading them out and propping them up in front of me. Pages fly every time the air conditioner kicks in. For some songs that’s fine, but who really wants to hear page six of Hey Jude?

Some say Spooky Season doesn’t start until October, but no one will mind if we start it a little earlier this year.

Commitment is an act, not a word. Now, I want you two to demonstrate the love you share, right here in the office.

It’s still technically summer, and while I know you’re impatiently waiting for the onset of sweater weather, never fear: the August 2024 issue of Defenestration is here, so at the very least you won’t be bored. (At least for now. I don’t know how long it will take you to read six short stories and six poems. Probably not very long. So maybe you won’t be bored for the next 45 minutes. If we’re lucky, the weather will get cooler in that short time and you’ll be able to break out that sweater in your closet that’s been tempting you with is scandalous softness all summer.)

On a typical sleepy Sunday morning in Glendale, California, Kyle and his wife, Noelle, were setting up lawn chairs for their garage sale. A small playing card table was situated between them with a pitcher of ice tea and two cups. A sign on a makeshift sandwich board read: GARAGE SALE. ALL SALES ARE FINAL. This was the second attempt as the previous day a steady drizzle had kept only but a handful of the bargain hunters away.