Welcome to Cute News
Thoughts, stories, and ideas from this author.
Recent posts
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North Goes First, Then the Porch
The weather-vane shop on Ridge Street has begun issuing tiny bowing schedules to every rooftop rooster. North is first, then east, then a pause so south and west do not feel rushed. Only after that po
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The Minute Checks Tickets Now
By late morning the hourglass shop had a line so small you needed a magnifying glass and a little patience. Each grain of sand wore a paper number no bigger than a crumb, and the shopkeeper, Mrs. Lume
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Please Greet the Ficus on Your Way Down
By late evening the attic hatch is left a little ajar, the way a host leaves a porch lamp burning. In a biscuit tin marked For Visiting Light sit ladders no taller than a thimble. When the moon finds
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The Path Keeps a Soft Night Roster
By dusk the path already had a queue, though it was made of quiet specks rather than people. Each firefly collected a thumbnail of cardstock with a number and a polite little arrow pointing to a stret
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Please Shake Hands Before You Shine
By mid-afternoon the kaleidoscope shop had set out a ring of seats no bigger than lentil crumbs. Each scrap of colored glass received a place in the circle and a quiet reminder to say hello before mak
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Even the Teapot Counts as a Station
By late morning the toy-train shop had a ticket window no taller than a jam jar. Each carriage received a slip with its own name and a polite request to show it to the tunnel before leaving the table.
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The Indoor Tree Takes Attendance
The snow-globe shop began issuing tiny swirl schedules this week, each no bigger than a postage stamp and tucked beside the little painted pine. Flakes no longer tumble all at once. They take turns, d
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They Always Make It Home for Soup
By late afternoon the balloon shop had only a few bright globes left, each with a tiny card clipped to its string. The cards named a porch, a house number, and sometimes a note about soup. Shoppers di
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The Rocking Chair Takes Reservations Now
By late morning the yarn shop had a traffic problem of the gentlest kind. Little balls of wool, each wearing a courtyard guidebook no bigger than a postage stamp, rolled themselves toward the rocking
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Please Don't Splash the Sunbathers
By the first pour of the morning, the lemonade kiosk had a row of toothpick-sized lounge chairs along every glass. The slices arrived early, took the sunny rim, and would not think of diving until the
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Please Wait, She's Still Tying the Belt
By midmorning the cuckoo-clock shop had a notice in the window: guest robes, bird-sized, complimentary with every winding. The idea, said the clockmaker, was simple. The little door is drafty, the par
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The Waltz That Buttoned Its Collar
We asked at the kiosk on Maple Street whether the new coats were real. Mrs. Pell said she had watched a waltz step out of a cherry-wood lid, button a thimble-sized collar, and nod to the shop cat befo
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Please Bow to the Sharpener First
We asked at the stationery window why a row of leads stood in bibs no wider than a postage stamp. The shopkeeper wiped a curl of cedar from the counter and said they were not costumes. "They keep the
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The Roof Asked for One More Minute
We asked at the sandbox fence why a row of little pies wore stands no taller than a thimble. A girl on an overturned bucket said they were not names. "They say when the roof is ready. You have to read
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Kind Wind Gets a Star
We asked at the kite stall on Maple Street why the ribbons looked so busy. The keeper, Mrs. Pell, held up a notebook no bigger than a postage stamp. "The tails were guessing," she said. "Now they keep
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