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Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2234639
No Dialog Contest Entry OCTOBER
Scarecrow and Mrs. King were fun to watch but living the TV show was another matter. His life was in peril and he had nowhere to go but up. Escaping from the pit required a lot of strength and endurance, but he was tall, muscular, and determined to survive. Stretching as far as possible it was possible for him to use his appendages to climb and eventually hoist himself to the top of the damp and smelly place where garden scraps were flung.

Straining, gasping for air and enduring knots and spasms in his muscles he finally reached the top and flung himself free from the deep darkness of his prison. Bedraggled, warn, and dirty, he stumbled along the field rows until he could go no frothier. Leaning against the side of a tree sliding to the ground to rest, and enjoy the warmth from the sun, the shimmering green of the corn, and the beauty of birds flying about as they coasted on the breeze he was finally able to get some fresh air.

Jumping up in recognition of these birds this figure startled them. Weather worn and well used the old figure remembered many years he spent standing in the cornfield keeping the crows away and protecting the corn. They would yell and he would just standstill in the field as big and brave as possible. To them, some human was always standing guard. The flock flew past this field and ravaged another field farther away. He actually looked reasonably decent. He had hair, clothes, shoes, and even hands and feet, so he was actually pretty wonderful.

Never having a family, friends, or anyone for some company he was content to be solitary and enjoy taking in all that nature had to offer. The blue sky, clouds, greenery in the rolling hills and fields, colorful flowers, and insects dipping into them for their nectar. Life was good and amazing.

Though he longed for those days of youth, standing day and night, and having the sun beat down upon him, it was nice to be alone, homeless, and hungry. Food wasn’t exactly hard to get because eating was a matter of plucking a few kernels from the cornstalks. It would eventually rain and he would get his moisture through his soaking body. No matter at all just wait and everything would be ok. Perhaps he would someday be fully human. Meanwhile, his imagination would keep him company.

Tiz better than being buried in a compost bin.

2105 characters, 376 words. Readability level: 11-12th grade student.
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