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crowkeys.bsky.social
Crow & Cross Keys || SUBS CLOSED
@crowkeys.bsky.social
460 followers 440 following 190 posts
Seeking the wonderful and the bizarre, the beautiful and the dark.

Home to all things dark and lovely.

crowcrosskeys@gmail.com

EIC: @keychild.bsky.social (she/her)

https://linktr.ee/crowcrosskeys
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crowkeys.bsky.social
Click the link. It's for the best.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/22/l...
An excerpt from flash fiction, Like Mother, Like Son by Riel Rosehill published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a bittern in water with its mouth open wide. The excerpt reads: It was for the best, Mum said. Decent men don’t go on making a child when they find a crying woman alone. Hide now. Stay still. Over the years, I must’ve spent days on my stomach down in the reeds, watching the bittern’s brown-streaked body almost invisible among the golden stems, observing the purple flowers of the reed turning bristly brown, and counting the new goslings while the river flowed in silence.
November 22, 2025 at 6:11 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
All day, there has been a low keening throughout the tower. We're not sure where it's coming from, the tower is resistant to any sense of direction. You get used to it. For other concerning noises...

"Like Mother, Like Son" by Riel Rosehill

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/22/l...
A muted greyscale banner for flash fiction, Like Mother, Like Son by Riel Rosehill published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a bittern in water with its mouth open wide.
November 22, 2025 at 6:11 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
There's a great link in this post. Click it.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/19/t...
An excerpt from the poem Huldra by Faye Wikner, published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a close-up of train tracks in the rain. The excerpt reads: There is a great field of wheat by the train tracks; this is where I dance and hold the morning and shrug modern aches off my shoulders. I bring my wet palms to my red cheeks and greet the scavenger bird, we split the words over burrowing hares. She speaks all the languages of the bodies she has eaten.
November 19, 2025 at 6:27 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
We're chilly in the tower this November evening. Nothing warms like words, and it's a fine night for poetry. Such a fine night that we have not one but two poems to keep you warm. By Faye Wikner, we present...

"Huldra"
&
"Sappho's Fourth Body"

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/19/t...
A muted greyscale banner for duo of poems by Faye Wikner, Huldra and Sappho's Fourth Body published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a close-up of train tracks in the rain.
November 19, 2025 at 6:27 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
All you can think about is the link. Click it.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/16/o...
An excerpt from short story, Our Mother, the Dark Damp Earth by Laila Amado published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a field of plowed soil. The excerpt reads: Nena climbs back under the blanket, but sleep doesn’t come. Lying alone in the cold bed, she feels stiff like a corpse laid out for the wake, and all she can think of is the Dark Mother Earth, barren and waiting for the seeds.
November 16, 2025 at 6:18 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
Due to unforeseen circumstances, we're a day late, but we promise it's worth the wait. (Our seers are in the tower dungeon as we type. Their foretellings cannot be trusted.) This short story, however...

"Our Mother, the Dark Damp Earth" by @amadolaila.bsky.social

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/16/o...
A muted greyscale banner for short story, Our Mother, the Dark Damp Earth by Laila Amado published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a field of plowed soil.
November 16, 2025 at 6:18 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
You waste no time clicking the link. You've clicked it already.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/12/e...
An excerpt from flash fiction, Evening at the County Fair by Laura M Puhl published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring hands palms up holding berries. The excerpt reads: We spend the most tickets at the flower stall, buying strings of carnations to chain ourselves together, then weaving the strands into headbands in a giggling coronation. The florist is kind but her eyes are sad; she slips something into our palms and we thank her, shrugging at the gift, dropping it into our pockets for later.
November 12, 2025 at 6:09 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
We're thinking of carousels and candyfloss this evening. Oh, to be at a fair. Oh, to get tempted by the lights, the noise, the food, only to forget your name and living there forever. Bliss. For another fair...

"Evening at the County Fair" by Laura M Puhl

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/12/e...
A muted greyscale banner for flash fiction, Evening at the County Fair by Laura M Puhl published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring hands palms up holding berries.
November 12, 2025 at 6:09 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
You're watching. We know you've seen the link. You should click it.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/08/t...
An excerpt from narrative poem, The Salt in My Bloodline by Rowan Tate published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a flock of seagulls flying against a light background. The excerpt reads: The gulls are watching. They’ve grown fat on grief, the tiny bones of our hope. They scream like midwives, circle each birth with an appetite. What we have to make a life from was never ours: driftwood, flint, rope braided by other hands, hunger, salt-bitter lullabies, the shape of our faces and our daughter’s faces. The sea giveth and the sea taketh away.
November 8, 2025 at 6:13 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
Sometimes the tower ends up standing beside the sea. Usually when the tower craves salt. One mustn't ignore the cravings of uncanny architecture. On the sea and salt and daughters, today's narrative poem...

"The Salt in My Bloodline" by Rowan Tate

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/08/t...
A muted greyscale banner for narrative poem, The Salt in My Bloodline by Rowan Tate published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a flock of seagulls flying against a light background.
November 8, 2025 at 6:13 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
You never believed in the link. But now? Click it. Find out if it's real.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/05/t...
An excerpt from short story, The Witch's Daughter by Alexandra Wingo published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a well in the countryside. The excerpt reads: As a child, I never believed in witchcraft. Then the well water turned to blood. Before that, the misfortunes that visited our village had been easy enough to wave away. The Perne’s cow stopped giving milk. George Brown’s wheat crop was struck with blight. Hard rains swelled the river until it ripped the wheel from the mill like a straw doll from a child’s hands. All attributable to bad weather. Bad luck. Bad choice of location for our humble settlement.
November 5, 2025 at 6:31 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
Don't use the taps in the tower. Something is living in the plumbing and we can never quite predict what will pour out; this morning, it was pennies. This evening, it's today's short story—word by word.

"The Witch's Daughter" by Alexandra Wingo

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/05/t...
A muted greyscale banner for short story, The Witch's Daughter by Alexandra Wingo published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a well in the countryside.
November 5, 2025 at 6:31 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
The link knows you're going to click it before you do.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/01/n...
An excerpt from flash fiction, Names Set in Stone by Jennifer Oliver published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a cropped image of letters carved into stone. The excerpt reads: The stone knows the names before the chisels ever touch it. This is the first lesson Oren learns when he arrives at the gravestone quarry. He hears it in the workers’ silences, in the way their voices soften when they approach the stone, the way their eyes linger just a moment too long before lifting the chisel. As if waiting for permission. As if the stone might speak first.
November 1, 2025 at 6:18 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
There are messages all over the walls of the tower. We're not certain who put them there or what they mean or who they're for. It's better to pretend they don't exist. Why not read today's flash instead?

"Names Set in Stone" by @jenoliverwriter.bsky.social

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/11/01/n...
A muted greyscale banner for flash fiction, Names Set in Stone by Jennifer Oliver published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a cropped image of letters carved into stone.
November 1, 2025 at 6:18 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
We showed you the link, click it.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/29/a...
An excerpt from poem, After the before, we take care of the wounds by SK Grout published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring an axe embedded into a branch in soft focus. The excerpt reads: Your shoulders are broad enough to lead. You’ve been splitting deceased trees, for the last few days, turning them to firewood, layering muscle into consequence, and I’ve been watching. You showed me, keep them dry.
October 29, 2025 at 6:13 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
Outside, we can hear the sounds of trees being felled. There isn't a tree for miles, but we hear it still. We are disconcerted. We're going to read today's poem and avoid thinking about it.

"After the before, we take care of the wounds" by SK Grout

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/29/a...
A muted greyscale banner for poem, After the before, we take care of the wounds by SK Grout published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring an axe embedded into a branch in soft focus.
October 29, 2025 at 6:13 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
One evening, at about sunset, you click the link.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/25/t...
An excerpt from short story, The Last and First Loves of Hayrum Bellmaker published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a bell on a string in a shallow depth of field. The excerpt reads: One evening, at about sunset, Hayrum looked to his feet and found a black cat keeping pace with his steps. It wove in and out of the path, slipping into the late summer nettles and parting through the rosinweed before trotting back into view at his heels. Hayrum greeted it gravely, which the cat took as its due. The cat took its leave at a huge old sycamore bole, one with a split down its middle capacious enough to seat a violin quartet. The cat leapt into the hollow’s darkness faster than Hayrum could blink.
October 25, 2025 at 5:14 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
Something is chiming in the tower this evening. We've looked everywhere but we still can't find it. What we can find is today's short story...

"The Last and First Loves of Hayrum Bellmaker" by @mimulus.bsky.social

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/25/t...
A muted greyscale banner for short story, The Last and First Loves of Hayrum Bellmaker published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring a bell on a string in a shallow depth of field.
October 25, 2025 at 5:14 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
When we post the link, we imbue it with gratitude. Click it, won't you?

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/22/p...
An excerpt from flash fiction, Patchwork Boy by J.S. Brevik published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring layers of patchwork material in different patterns. The excerpt reads: When my mother sews me together, she combines many different fabrics. She sews my father’s old football shirts to my brother’s discarded childhood blanket with a serger stitch to ensure I don’t pull apart. She fills my head and chest and limbs with scraps of fabric from an old tablecloth and cut-offs of her many past sewing projects. She fills any empty sections with stuffing from my brother’s old stuffed animals, now ragged with love.
October 22, 2025 at 5:09 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
You might not have noticed, but the tower isn't just made of stone. Look closely and you'll find a bit of everything cobbled together. Not unlike the subject of today's flash fiction...

"Patchwork Boy" by @jsbrevik.bsky.social

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/22/p...
A muted greyscale banner for flash fiction, Patchwork Boy by J.S. Brevik published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring layers of patchwork material in different patterns.
October 22, 2025 at 5:09 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
The link waits for you to click it. Go on.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/18/w...
An excerpt from poem, Walking Past the End by Sam Aureli published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring an ominous vulture shot from between trees. The excerpt reads: The vultures tilt in a slow gyre overhead, black commas punctuating a sentence I don’t yet know the end of.
October 18, 2025 at 5:11 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
Don't worry about the noises you hear behind you. It's safe here, we promise. As long as you don't look. Look instead at today's poem...

"Walking Past the End" by @samaureli.bsky.social

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/18/w...
A muted greyscale banner for poem, Walking Past the End by Sam Aureli published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring an ominous vulture shot from between trees.
October 18, 2025 at 5:11 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
The link is a gift. You're welcome.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/15/t...
An excerpt from short story, The Gravedigger's Godling by Sophia Alapati published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring an old graveyard. The excerpt reads: Of all the unfairnesses visited upon Iona, she could not get over this one: she hadn’t even slept with the god of the abyss when he got her pregnant. What she’d done instead was have a long, thoughtful conversation at the pub with a dark-haired stranger who had eyes like a moonless night. They’d talked about sea caves and graves and the space between stars, and at closing time he’d paid her bill and waved off her thanks. “It’s a gift,” he’d said, and, “I expect you’ll have another gift soon, lass.”
October 15, 2025 at 5:14 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
In the tower, we find many gifts from small gods. We're not sure how they find us, but they always do. Today's story also features gifts and gods. Read it, won't you?

"The Gravedigger's Godling" by @wisdomofthesea.bsky.social

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/15/t...
A muted greyscale banner for short story, The Gravedigger's Godling by Sophia Alapati published on crowcrosskeys.com, featuring an old graveyard.
October 15, 2025 at 5:14 PM
crowkeys.bsky.social
Quiet settles around the link. You should click it.

crowcrosskeys.com/2025/10/11/l...
An excerpt from flash fiction, "Let go, the anglerfish cries to her male protuberance, with whom she shares organs" by C.K. Liu published on crowcrosskeys.com, presented on a muted greyscale banner featuring a gooseneck lamp. The excerpt reads: Katherine Langley owns The Anglerfish – today, a bakery. Some days it’s a haberdashery, an apothecary, or a repair shop. In all cases, The Anglerfish squats at Wickenden and Provence, and is Katherine Langley’s home. It’s a dusty brownstone, with a gooseneck lantern that protrudes over a WELCOME sign. Quiet settles around The Anglerfish, as it does at the cemetery. Fittingly, Katherine Langley was born in The Anglerfish, and she knows she’ll die there, too.
October 11, 2025 at 5:17 PM