erin

secret wishes of stuffed tigers

The kids that play outside make fun of the tiger in the window simply because it is there, and thus fodder for amusement.

Stupid fluffy baby toy.

And the tiger cannot move from the window, so it is forced to watch and listen. It accepts their taunts with unblinking plastic eyes.

The neighbor glares from her window across the way. It is impossible to tell if she glares at the children or the tiger or both.

The tiger doesn’t mind. The tiger is patient.

It knows that if it wishes hard enough, someday it can be a real tiger.

Then they’ll be sorry.

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

seasonal technicality

The equinox has come and gone but winter didn’t seem to pay it any mind. Perhaps it likes it here and wants to stay. An extended holiday.

So there are no singing birds. No crocuses pushing up anxiously through the dirt.

Not yet.

The ground is still mostly frozen and boot-crunchy underneath the leafless sketchbook trees.

Bare branches reaching for blue sky.

Longing for spring.

When technically it’s already here, as far as the movement of the sun is concerned.

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

fairy trap

All you need to catch a fairy is an old birdhouse and some shiny stuff. You know, like glass and glitter, or pieces of colored plastic or metal things that’ll sparkle when the sun hits them.

You can paint the birdhouse, but it doesn’t really matter what color. It’s not like how hummingbirds like red things, fairies aren’t that picky.

So you take your birdhouse and shiny stuff and just hang it somewhere. High but not too high. Trees are good but fairies are everywhere so trees aren’t like, a requirement.

You don’t even need to put anything over the birdhouse entrance. Once they get in they won’t be able to figure out how to get out.

Fairies are kind of stupid.

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