Once upon a time, in a class on fantasy literature, I asked if anyone was familiar with the term “speculative fiction.” Of thirty students, only one raised his hand—a skinny sophomore with round glasses and brilliant red hair, equal parts Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Upon attempting to explain it to the class, he said, “It’s like, when, you know . . . ” and here he scrunched up his face in concentration, searching for the right words. His hands were actually opening and closing on his desk, as if the definition were an invisible pebble he could grasp in his fist. The awkward pause stretched to an excruciating length and I was just about to jump in when he blurted, “Something weird is going on!” Indeed it is, young Gryffindor.

Our sixty-seventh issue is full of those intriguing moments where you sense that something is a bit off. Timothy Day introduces us to the mysterious “Woman on the Couch,” and Sej Harman shows why “The Smell of Green Onions” is the perfume of revenge. Jessica Wiseman Lawrence reminds us how the beach tends to follow you home in “How to Write About Sand,” and Derek Osedach discovers an unusual pizza topping in “Baby Calzones.” Finally, there’s Marina Favila’s “The Blue Spruce,” a dark tale of love, paranoia, and botany. And if you’ve ever wondered how many spiders it takes to change a light bulb, look no further than our extraordinary cover art, Hermin Abramovitch’s “Hunger.”

Absorb it online or soak up the .pdf.

In this month of college graduations, season finale viewing parties, and down comforters being awkwardly stuffed onto linen closet top shelves, we weren’t altogether surprised to find endings emerging as a strong theme for issue sixty-six. Kyle Amato’s “Obelisk” explores what happens to one partner when the other is ready to ascend to the next plane of existence. In one of Shinjini Bhattacharjee’s poems, birds stop doing something, and in the other . . . well, we’re not sure, but we liked the kitties. Filip Wiltgren explores what happens when a powerful human talisman shatters in “The Last Breakfast of Corporal Ashton the Blessed,” and Kate Imbach shows us at what point “A Woman in Tech” decides she’s had enough of her literally beastly coworkers. Bringing all the ends to an end is Annamarie Davidson’s story of The End, “Jasper’s Gone Fishing.” The moody monochrome cover art is Allen Forrest’s “New York Noir #9.”

The usual range of reading options is available; pick a flavor.

The stories and poems in our sixty-fifth issue all relate to communication—the simple and elaborate ways we share, or avoid sharing, our ideas and feelings. In Joe Scott’s “The People of the Pit,” two voices rise out of darkness and disorder. Next up is Sheri Vandermolen’s “Mandelbrot Chaos,” in which abstract art blooms across boundaries of space and sensory perception. Rowdy Geirsson, who made another appearance way back in Issue 24, searches for clues in an odd recorded conversation in “Self-Condemned in the Tunnelbana,” and Gloria Heffernan takes a free-verse measure of “Conversational Distance.” Finally, Ashley Hutson strums a C-chord on our heartstrings with her short tale of love and stuffed animals, “My Friends Live on My Bed.” And check out the cover art, too, because Aimee Flom’s “Sacrificial Lamb” is no escape goat.

Partake of online delights or frolic with the .pdf.