Sunday, November 24, 2013

Strawmen

They stretched as far as he could see, then well past that. They surrounded his house like an army frozen in time, the older of them rotting and falling to pieces on the ground around the stakes which held them. The age of each followed no pattern. One built in 1972 might well stand next to one built two weeks ago. Some had, at one time, sported jack-o-lantern heads; the flame in their faces burning only once - the night of their birth. Some were topped with plain pumpkins, giving the impression of an expressionless face, and a question withheld. Over the years these had returned to the earth, their seeds dropping and coming back as small green buds. As a result, large portions of the farm were wild pumpkin patches, the orange fruit growing large in between figures that seemed to pay them no mind.


Excerpt from The Last Scarecrow
by Bean.


9 comments:

Willow Cove said...

Great story, Bean! Full of imagery. I can see it now.....

HalloweeNut said...

Wonderful.

Ann said...

Want. More.

RebelShade said...

Very Nicely Written Bean, I'd buy the book. :)

girl6 said...

i Can feel it, 1972 & the present.
bean, you've created the Perfect tomb for these straw pretties to live & die in...Lovely!!! . :)

bean said...

Thanks, everyone.

:)

Mark Faucett said...

Stop teasing with all these excerpts and bring on the whole story! :) I'm intrigued enough Ms. Bean!

Jay's Shadow said...

Agreed with Mark. I would like to read the whole thing. Send me a copy. :D

I commented on Bean's blog you to find the greatest places to take photos.

Wikkedmoon said...

I miss Halloween. Not ready for the Christmas madness. I never am. This is a very nice read Bean.