by E.F. Olsson
A cold breeze blew against my face as I approached him. It was my first time there. His checkered shirt was ripping. His straw hat was creased and splitting on the edges. The brim of the hat hide his blank face – a faded burlap sack.
They say that once you cross him, his face will come alive and he’ll stop you. I was one step away to see if the legend was true.
Behind me, the others watched. They were too scared to join me. What if the legend was true? They say he keeps children out of the fields behind him. But I wanted to see what he was hiding.
I took that last step. Then another. And another. I heard screaming. I turned to look. They were all running away. I was alone with the scarecrow. The brim of his hat moved. The cross he was attached to creeked.
I ran after my friends and never looked back to see if the scarecrow was watching me.
But hopefully it was just the wind.
DON’T CROSS THE SCARECROW is my submission to the weekly writing challenge by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2016/06/27/fffaw-challenge-week-of-06-28-2016). This week’s photo prompt of the scarecrow was provided by Louise with The Storyteller’s Abode. The stories word count: 175 words.
Copyright © 2016 E.F. Olsson. All rights reserved.
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