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Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2236128
Entry for the No Dialogue Contest October WDC 544 word count
        Thomas the Scarecrow stood alone in the musty, brown cornfield.  He had been there for an eternity. Time passed slowly, seasons came, seasons went, and alone he stood.  His clothes frayed, straw almost gone, painted face dimmed by the sun and rain. The old hat blew in the wind held on by a thin, worn string.  A sad picture of an era long past.

        Samuel Patterson had created Thomas on a long, ago day and placed him in the cornfield to warn away crows and those wanting to feast on his beautiful, golden corn.  Samuel, almost as worn and frayed as Thomas, stood looking over what was left of his field, time kept moving forward at a pace he could no longer keep.

        The old farmhouse, with cracked paint, peeled off with time, looked like it might collapse with the slightest breeze. Samuel had built it with his own two hands, hands now weak and wrinkled with age. He opened the door to see the empty rooms, where life had once blossomed, now old and dusty with age.  Slowly, he walked through the old house, it had once been filled with love and laughter, now silent, silent as the grave.  He leaned down to retrieve an old picture left alone on the dusty floor, he groaned in agony and sorrow as he straightened up as much as possible.  Resting on the door frame, barely supporting his weight, he looked at the old black and white picture, it was of him and his son, Frank, placing Thomas in the cornfield. With tears in his eyes, he turned and walked back outside, gently closing the door to his once beautiful home.

        Samuel slowly walked to what was left of the barn he and his sons had built so many years ago.  The barn was in the same shape as the farmhouse, very old and tired.  He opened the door, most of the stalls had fallen and the loft was now on the floor, where it had fallen.  He had spent a lot of time in the barn, working on gardening tools and taking care of the animals. It was also here he had created Thomas, using his own old clothes and an old hat.  Samuel had talked to Thomas all the while putting him together. Over the years Samuel had come to regard Thomas as a dear friend.

        Samuel closed the door to the old barn and walked towards the cornfield.  He paused and looked around again, he had spent his entire life here, a life that was almost over, as he continued toward the cornfield, he walked slowly, knees beginning to ache, he kept going.  As Samuel reached the place where Thomas stood, he stopped and just looked at the scarecrow. It had been a long time, both old and tired, Samuel reached up and lifted Thomas down.  Samuel held Thomas gently and walked back towards the farmhouse.  When he reached the car where his granddaughter waited for him, he and Thomas turned and looked one last time at the home they had both loved and taken care of for so many years.

        As his granddaughter drove them back to the home, Samuel closed his eyes and finally went home, with Thomas by his side.

WDC 544 word count
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