There was nothing more dangerous than rounding a corner. As an older stickbug, Anise could feel her exoskeleton creak as she bent by even the slightest degree, she wouldn’t dare push too hard for fear of forming a crack along her delicate body.

Last week I discovered it’s hard to say
I love human skin without a lot of weird looks
and party guests pulling sweaters
over shoulders even in too hot rooms.
It’s hard to be cool at parties.

Hello again, friends and readers and people who stumbled here accidentally, to the August 2020 issue of Defenestration! We were all expecting our lives to be back to normal by now, but here we are, thoroughly abnormal. Normal isn’t a thing anymore. Normal is a historical blip, a tone box in a textbook from 2031,

[continue reading…]

I hope that this letter finds you well. My apologies for using such an archaic form of communication, but as you know Earth has yet to join the intergalactic web.

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” Pastor Pete said as he placed his hand on my son’s head, the baby reached for his Christian fish necklace as it dangled over him. My husband, Joe, and I smiled at each other. It was our only child’s baptism. Joe and I weren’t exactly devout but we decided we would start going to church, a sort of tradition for our new son. The baby began to fuss as water rolled over his fuzzy little head, washing over my hand, cleansing me of my sins as well.