An excerpt from poem, the woman who fed an island by Emily Rose Davies published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a woman crouching in a lush garden. The excerpt reads: There is a woman and there is a garden if you can call it that it’s empty and it’s barren but she tries.
There is a post and there is a link. You should click it.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/03/04/t...
A muted greyscale banner for poem, the woman who fed an island by Emily Rose Davies published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a woman crouching in a lush garden.
Plants are ravenous beasts. Just yesterday, the weeds beneath an old elm in the tower garden ate an unexpected visitor. It's a shame really, they won't get to experience today's poem.
"the woman who fed an island" by Emily Rose Davies
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/03/04/t...
new flash out in the world today with the lovely @crowkeys.bsky.social. love the home it’s found and thankful for the @smokelong.bsky.social fitness prompt that inspired it last year 🌘🐈
An excerpt from short story, The Mirror and the Wind by Andrew Senior published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring an ornate mirror on a light coloured wall. The excerpt reads: The mirror was one of the first things I’d noticed when we moved in. I hated it. It was ugly and out of place and something about the glass made my face appear longer and paler and more tired than I knew I was. But Kay said he liked it and I’d humoured him to keep the peace. As I stood in front of it again now, I saw it still had the same effect, and it came to me, a fairy tale my sister and I used to read. In it there was a wicked sorcerer who made a looking-glass in which even handsome people appeared repulsive.
The link is one of the first things you notice. Click it.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/28/t...
A muted greyscale banner for short story, The Mirror and the Wind by Andrew Senior published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring an ornate mirror on a light coloured wall.
It has been uncharacteristically sunny around the tower today. We're certain that the weather is up to something. We're uncertain whether that something is nefarious. We'll distract ourselves with today's story:
"The Mirror and the Wind" by Andrew Senior
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/28/t...
"Where were her parents? Did any friends or family make it? The girl answers nothing, only whispers the cat’s name. Mrs. Cookie."
Gorgeous speculative piece by @lkardos.bsky.social in @crowkeys.bsky.social and now I am so in love with Mrs Cookie.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/25/c...
For Sunday a very brief review of poetic, dreamy mythic story A Vacancy In The Starless Realms by Rebecca Harrison in @crowkeys.bsky.social nightofthehats.blogspot.com/2023/07/i-re...
“There once was a flame, bold and bright and tough to look at straight on. The flame had a soul and the soul was a girl and the girl turned all she touched to ash.” @crowkeys.bsky.social crowcrosskeys.com/2025/07/19/a...
My friend Brianna wrote this haunting short story!!! 💚🖤🪑🌲
An excerpt from flash fiction, Cats Can't Live on the Moon by Lauren Kardos published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a cat against a starry sky alongside a crescent moon. The excerpt reads: Did you know that on the moon, the air is different? Humans can breathe it, but cats can’t. The man tells the girl there won’t be mice for Mrs. Cookie to hunt and eat like here in the forest. And how mad would Mrs. Cookie be, he adds, with no sunshine-filled windows to lay out and bake?
Did you know that in the link there's excellent flash fiction? Well, now you do. Click it.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/25/c...
A muted greyscale banner for flash fiction, Cats Can't Live on the Moon by Lauren Kardos published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a cat against a starry sky alongside a crescent moon.
The cats that live in the tower can move through the walls. A cat steps through the kitchen wall and steps out in the attic. We're too afraid to ask how they do it. Instead, we read flash fiction:
"Cats Can't Live on the Moon" by @lkardos.bsky.social
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/25/c...
I read The Gravedigger's Godling by Sophia Alapati in @crowkeys.bsky.social a story of bringing up a god's child. nightofthehats.blogspot.com/2026/02/i-re...
An excerpt from poem, peachpit cantrip by Kristen Reece published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring two peaches, one cut and the other whole, on a dark background. The excerpt reads: when i bite, nip through velvety flesh the sticky nectar runs down my chin so messy i am eating your ripe heart over the kitchen sink and the pit the best part
The link isn't the best part. The best part is what you find when you click it.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/21/p...
A muted greyscale banner for poem, peachpit cantrip by Kristen Reece published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring two peaches, one cut and the other whole, on a dark background.
The fruit that grows in the tower garden has gained the ability to speak. They speak in riddles. We're not certain whether they're safe to eat. For now, we tend them & wait. We consume poetry instead, just like this...
"peachpit cantrip" by Kristen Reece
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/21/p...
An excerpt from short story, A Velvet Chair Anywhere but Home by Brianna Alers published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a forest scene with a velvet chair sitting in a small clearing. The excerpt reads: The world ended five days ago, and you’ve been running ever since. Your feet catch the roots of trees exploding from asphalt. Vines hang from streetlamps and stop signs, and they kiss your shoulders with their waving tendrils as you pass. An eruption of plant life covers every surface. You have to peel back the layers to see the remains of this building. The home you lived in for the first twenty years of your life. You’re thirsty. You’re weary. You’re upset with yourself for taking a seat in that damn chair.
The world hasn't ended yet, so you can still click the link. There's time.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/18/a...
A muted greyscale banner for short story, A Velvet Chair Anywhere but Home by Brianna Alers published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a forest scene with a velvet chair sitting in a small clearing.
We try not to engage with human items found in non-human places. That stove you found in a remote cave? Don't light it. The writing desk on the beach? Leave it alone. You never know what might happen...
"A Velvet Chair Anywhere but Home" by Brianna Alers
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/18/a...
An excerpt from flash fiction, Crawl by Rachel Savage published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a cemetery angel against a background of skeletal branches. The excerpt reads: After school, we’d cut through the graveyard. “Listen,” you said, fingers warm against mine, “ghosts are chattering.” I count headstones by starlight, passing wingless angels and crumbling crosses. There I find you—a splotch of turned-up clay wet as creek mud.
After you see it, you click the link.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/14/c...
A muted greyscale banner for flash fiction, Crawl by Rachel Savage published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a cemetery angel against a background of skeletal branches.
It is Valentine's day and we can hear hearts thrumming in the walls. How lovely. Our hearts are filled with flash fiction; specifically, this flash ficiton:
"Crawl" by Rachel Savage
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/14/c...
An excerpt from poem, Ode to An Abdomen And Pelvis With Contrast Of Beauty by Jasmin Leigh reprinted on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a faded image of an abdomen overlaid with x-ray-like light. The excerpt reads: LUNG BASES: vague images of lung tissues like coconut crabs expiring a sigh of relief, gargling air against the cold metal of the CT machine. LIVER: ghost lesions floating about in springy nothingness.
IN THIS POST: a link. Click it.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/11/o...
A muted greyscale banner for poem, Ode to An Abdomen And Pelvis With Contrast Of Beauty by Jasmin Leigh reprinted on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a faded image of an abdomen overlaid with x-ray-like light.
If you cut us open, you won't find organs. You might find ghosts, though, or spells or wishes or every trinket you have ever lost. It all depends on where you slice. On insides...
"Ode to An Abdomen And Pelvis With Contrast Of Beauty" by Jasmin Leigh
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/11/o...
👀January 2026 Fiction👀
ICYMI, "And If You Must Be Wicked, You Must" is a short story by @keychild.bsky.social about being forced to outsource your anger. Read this one for its refusal of the patriarchy and its embracing of all the right kinds of wicked.
havenspec.com/fiction/and-...
"Elou Carroll’s short story about wickedness explores what happens when we look away from the darkest parts of ourselves. It offers a lovely take on the concept of changelings. Each vignette unfolds, revealing a new layer that..."
Read @keychild.bsky.social's story, plus mini editor reviews too.
An excerpt from short story, Blood Like Honey by Madison Ahn-Lee published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a tangle of thread on a dark background. The excerpt reads: She pulled, guiding, what was that? A string? A red string unraveled out of her mouth, its frayed end clutched between two fingernails. She pulled, looping the slimy line between her two fingers. The string’s body slithered up her throat, a long tongue pouring out of her open mouth.
What was that? A link? Yes. Click it.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/07/b...
A muted greyscale banner for short story, Blood Like Honey by Madison Ahn-Lee published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a tangle of thread on a dark background.
There are strings criss-crossed about the tower. If you follow one, it might lead to good fortune, or to certain death. There's no way of knowing until you try. To be safe, we're reading a story instead. This story:
"Blood Like Honey" by Madison Ahn-Lee
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/07/b...
An excerpt from reprinted flash fiction, Tightrope to the Moon by Carella Keil published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a feminine face with layers of flowers overlaid. The excerpt reads: My first life I was a mountain. I thought I would never die. I stared down at the clouds and up at the sky. One day a hiker tossed a rock off the edge, and I fell with it.
One day, you clicked the link. We click it with you.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/04/t...
A muted greyscale banner for reprinted flash fiction, Tightrope to the Moon by Carella Keil published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a feminine face with layers of flowers overlaid.
We have lived many lives, but we're not counting. Instead, we're assigning each life a colour. This one is mauve. On the subject of past lives, today's reprint...
"Tightrope to the Moon" by Carella Keil
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/02/04/t...
We will be reopening for submissions on 5th February. We look forward to seeing your work!
An excerpt from poem, Cassandra by R S Kendle published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a close up of a woman's eye with a white iris and no pupil. The excerpt reads: carve out these eyes. orbs of milk quartz clouded from peering through veiled apertures.
click this link.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/01/31/c...
A muted greyscale banner for poem, Cassandra by R S Kendle published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a close up of a woman's eye with a white iris and no pupil.
We've seen the future, but we won't tell you what happens. You wouldn't believe us if we did. Instead, we offer this poem...
"Cassandra" by R S Kendle
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/01/31/c...
An excerpt from short story, Crickets by E.B. Sommer published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a cricket sitting on a rock in shallow depth of field. The excerpt reads: She tends to her little cricket farm daily, making sure the shallow tin of water is filled and that they get their morning and evening meals of whatever is left over from her scraps. A processing plant a few blocks away grinds them every few weeks for her. She drops off her insects, and a few days later she picks up the bags of processed flour. She makes pancakes and sourdough bread, though the maple trees died out a decade ago and there are no cows for butter anymore.
We tend to the link. You click it.
crowcrosskeys.com/2026/01/28/c...
