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scarecrow

metaphorical short-story flash fiction

Scarecrow.

I am the hideous straw man, looking twisted in broad daylight.

Patched together carelessly with old-fashioned clothes, and hung up like an unappreciated martyr, looking upwards towards the skies.

I scare away flying pests, with my twisted expression and evil intent.

Even humans pass me by, shuddering away, as the crows hawk in abundance, field mice and insects scuffling below my straw feet.

 

If I had a soul placed underneath this hole-ridden shirt, I would feel proud. I protect the fields; I ensure they grow without interference.

I provide the farmers with a good day's work to feed their families; the produce feeds the local communities.

So forgive my appearance, turn away if you need to, but respect why I am here.,

I am what is needed, and I’ll be here for a long time. Scarecrow.

 

 

 

 

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