erin

tiny helpful birds

The Helpful Birds are small and black
But some of them wear splashes of color
And all of them are somewhat fluffy.

Often only one of them will show up
But they will be there when you need them.

If you have a lock in need of picking or a lost item stuck on a high branch
Or if you simply feel the need to listen to a little song
They will be happy to help you or to sing for you.

And if you are lost at sea
They will help you build your boat.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

the wish granters

The faeries got tired of constantly being asked to grant wishes while they were busy with other things like practicing their tiny violins and writing novellas and drinking their faerie wine so they created a wish submission system, somewhat similar to a post office box system, but, you know, for wishing.

You write down your wish in 250 words or less and put it in an envelope (standard, not business sized) and you tape a flower to it (it doesn’t matter what kind). Then you put your wish in one of the numbered boxes to submit it to the faeries and they will answer it or they won’t.

Wishers debate about the system, they all have their theories. They suppose that wishes submitted to box number four always come true, or ones placed in box number one have a higher chance of being granted because fewer wishers put their wish in the first box.

(Some say thirteen is unlucky and others say the opposite and neither is correct.)

Or that faeries don’t care for dandelions, and they’re not a proper flower anyway.

(Untrue, faeries love dandelions, particularly in their puffy stage.)

Once in awhile someone will suggest that all the wishes get piled together regardless of which numbered box they go into and the faeries ignore them all, but that’s not true either.

The wishes go into numbered piles that the faeries ignore, until one of them is bored and pulls a wish at random to grant, just to keep things interesting.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

authorized persons only

I like to sit in the park and read in the afternoons, usually in the same round gated garden because there’s more shade but today the fence has been replaced by a tall grey wall that says Authorized Persons Only where the gate used to be.

There’s no door, as far as I can tell, but I follow the wall around to the side and find a window just about eye-level with closed shutters covered in peeling white paint.

I knock on the window and the shutters open and at first I don’t see anyone but then the top halves of two heads with leaves stuck in their messy curls pop into view, staring at me with bright brown eyes.

Guten Tag! the pair of leafy-haired moppets shouts in unison but when I ask them if I can come into the garden they reply: Only if you’re Authorized!

How do I get authorized? I ask and they duck out of sight and converse in loud yet unintelligible whispers for a moment.

When they pop back up they ask: Are you an Author? If you’re an Author then you are Authorized.

What’s the difference between an author and a writer? I ask them in return.

They look at each other and then back at me and then they vanish back down and the whisper-bickering goes on so long that I take my book and retreat to another corner of the park.

The next day the wall says Writerized or Authorized Persons Only, but they still won’t let me in.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.