teeny tale: tatter

the rain went pitter patter, as her heart began to tatter. & as polka dots adorned her plain tee, she tittered. & then littered the puddles with her fears; the pool beneath her swelled from the flow. & as she looked to the wealth of drops that had fallen below, she saw staring back that which frightened her most of all...


teeny tale: a single branch

he said it’s funny how life works. how many paths it can take. & all the moments that lead up to those possible paths. there are just an infinite number of possibilities. like a tree, with each branch shooting off in its own direction. although, she said, a tree does have a limited amount of branches. but it still works, because the paths we’d actual take are in fact limited anyway. i mean, yes, the possibilities are themselves endless, but there's usally only a few paths we'd really take and those are the ones that are a bit more defined, just like the branches of a tree. well thanks, he said. & she added: besides, there’s only one “branch” i wanted to choose. & which one would that be? he asked. the one that pointed to you, she said. & when she came home later that day, upon their porch sat their potted star magnolia with all but one branch pointing toward her. she smiled--it was a drastic statement but one of love nonetheless.


teeny tale: "dear sleep:"

dear sleep:

i know it’s been quite some time now since we last caught up. but i’m hoping you’ll come ‘round again. i miss you sleep. i realize i can be difficult at times with my night owl ways & my false perception of how my caffeine consumption doesn’t affect my sleepiness. but i promise…i pinkie promise if you come back, i’ll make it right between us. i’ll put the pen down at eight & stop the mind-editing by nine. i’ll even change the sheets so they have that mild mix of cotton breeze from the dryer & cedar from the chest -- the scent that helps me breathe in deeply & exhale slowly. & then i’ll slip that worn-out tee over my tousled bed-ready hair & pop on a pair of exhausted tube socks to cover my tootsies…just long enough to warm ‘em up until they’re set free by a quick kick. i’ll pull the blinds down & swivel them closed—pointing up. & then close the heavy drapes right before i close my heavy lids. 

so what do you say sleep? can I see you soon? please don’t make me wait…i'll only grow restless, & then we’re sure to never see each other again. & that…that would just be no good. because we’re good together, you & me. & deep down, i think you need me just as much as i need you.

with love,
jessie lynn


teeny tale: closer look

bloated backpacks blocked her view. & then through the window that idled right above her, rode a boy whose face was smooshed up against the glass of the school bus. he seemed to be inflicting this awkward position upon himself; no sign of a bully was present. so she decided to smoosh her face, too, upon the cool glass of her driver-side window. & she then realized the boy could care less about what he looked like or what his jammed up flesh was going through & more about being closer to the world. that's when she decided the boy would grow up pressing a pen to paper, just as his face pressed against the glass, so he could always have a closer look.