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 @onbonbon7 https://t.co/vB2hr0CzP4

All you can think about is the link. Click it. https://t.co/vB2hr0CzP4

You waste no time clicking the link. You've clicked it already. https://t.co/V9uOqWNGYS

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 https://t.co/V9uOqWNGYS

You're watching. We know you've seen the link. You should click it. https://t.co/QgsbD3rsOC

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 https://t.co/QgsbD3rsOC

You never believed in the link. But now? Click it. Find out if it's real. https://t.co/p3NpUtYMh2

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 https://t.co/p3NpUtYeru

The link knows you're going to click it before you do. https://t.co/nDvUwKCCKf

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 Jennifer Oliver https://t.co/nDvUwKCCKf

We showed you the link, click it. https://t.co/ddShz8PuKX

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 @indeskidge https://t.co/ddShz8PuKX

One evening, at about sunset, you click the link. https://t.co/XgDWDf9N0r

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 Rick Hollon https://t.co/XgDWDf9N0r

I’ve spent a lifetime not only working in cities, but designing and building their monuments to the sky. “The City Asks for More” is a poem about what we give to the city, and what it keeps. About exhaustion, beauty, and the small rebellions that still sing. First published in

When we post the link, we imbue it with gratitude. Click it, won't you? https://t.co/8EeOl72nYw

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 J.S. Brevik https://t.co/8EeOl72nYw

I’ve spent a lifetime not only working in cities, but designing and building their monuments to the sky. “The City Asks for More” is a poem about what we give to the city, and what it keeps. About exhaustion, beauty, and the small rebellions that still sing. Grateful to the

My poem, “Walking Past the End,” published in the wonderful @CrowKeys . A huge thank you to the editors. 😊

Worth a read.