carys crossen Archives - Black Hare Press

Ice Packs

April 20, 2023/by Shawna Rowan

by Carys Crossen

After decades of global warming, the new ice age left humanity gobsmacked. The oceans solidified, the forests and fields were scoured by blizzards, oil froze into black diamonds. The population halved within a year.

The penguins marched up from the south like iron filings towards a magnet. They had been shackled by hot, dry earth, but on ice they were transfigured into torpedoes, bullets.

They hunted in packs. Humans, who had held the evolutionary advantage for so long, were helpless. Their efforts to flee futile, they were knocked down and ripped apart by razor-like beaks.

It was quicker than freezing.

Carys Crossen

Carys Crossen is a writer from Manchester UK who writes about ghosts, wolves, magic, rebellious women and wild places. She mostly writes short fiction but is working on her first novel. She lives with her husband, daughter and their cat, who is more than a match for any penguin.

Instagram: @swintonwriter

YEAR ONE

January 15, 2020/by Black Hare Press

YEAR FIVE

January 11, 2020/by Black Hare Press

Rags and Bones

May 24, 2019/by Carys Crossen

by Carys Crossen

The villagers decided she was a witch. They exiled her to the desert, to die of heat exhaustion or go mad of thirst.

She did neither.

She made a scarecrow, constructed it out of rags and bone. She placed it near a trading route, and waited.

In verdant lands, a scarecrow repels. In this desolation, it did the opposite. Birds, travellers, stray children flocked to it, for water, for succour, for company.

She feasted like a queen on the flesh of lost things. Blood could quench any thirst. Their bones and clothes she hoarded.

Soon, another scarecrow joined the first.

Carys Crossen

Carys Crossen has been writing stories since she was nine years old but only recently discovered drabbles. Her fiction has been published by Mother’s Milk Books, Dear Damsels, Three Drops Press, Blink Ink, Paragraph Planet, The First Line journal and others. She lives in Manchester UK with her husband.

You can keep up to date with Carys on Twitter @academicwannabe

Tag Archive for: carys crossen

After decades of global warming, the new ice age left humanity gobsmacked. The oceans solidified, the forests and fields were scoured by blizzards, oil froze into black diamonds. The population halved within a year.

The penguins marched up from the south like iron filings towards a magnet. They had been shackled by hot, dry earth, but on ice they were transfigured into torpedoes, bullets.

They hunted in packs. Humans, who had held the evolutionary advantage for so long, were helpless. Their efforts to flee futile, they were knocked down and ripped apart by razor-like beaks.

It was quicker than freezing.

by Carys Crossen

The villagers decided she was a witch. They exiled her to the desert, to die of heat exhaustion or go mad of thirst.

She did neither.

She made a scarecrow, constructed it out of rags and bone. She placed it near a trading route, and waited.

In verdant lands, a scarecrow repels. In this desolation, it did the opposite. Birds, travellers, stray children flocked to it, for water, for succour, for company.

She feasted like a queen on the flesh of lost things. Blood could quench any thirst. Their bones and clothes she hoarded.

Soon, another scarecrow joined the first.