The sky was tinted a tangerine hue as the sun descended. Wind whipped at the scarecrow’s plaid jacket, causing it to thud against his waist. A mere feet away, a woman rattled a broom high above her head, running at a murder of crows who were happily fralicing in the squash field.
“Get out! Shoo!” she said, her face red from anger, or perhaps, running.
The crows, upon sensing danger, took to the air in unison, as though they had trained for such a moment many times.
The woman muttered to herself under her breath, cursing. Then she turned to the scarecrow, her eyes narrowing on his masquerade mask and straw fingers.
“You!” she said, pointing an accusatory finger in his face. “You’re not cut out to be a scarecrow!” She said, throwing her arms up in the air and dropping the broom at the same time.
The scarecrow remained where he was, unmoving, unspeaking and altogether, not responding to her at all.
She crumpled to her knees, palms on her face, weeping dry sobs. Then she stilled, her sobs turning to soft laughter. She peered up at the bundle of straw and old clothing that had been fastened by her own two hands. He was a handsome scarecrow, she thought. It’s too bad he can’t move. She laughed to herself at the absurdity of such a thought. Spells were not meant to be used on such trivial matters. Besides, she should have been able to deal with this issue herself- how hard was it to keep a handful of birds out of a garden? She put a hand to her forehead, dizzy now from running. Or maybe she was getting a headache from constantly worrying about those birds- an actual, real life, headache.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t a trivial thing. She had lost sleep thinking about the crops that were lost due to the crows and other vermin; the bread she had burned countless times because she ran out to chase the birds and forgot it in the oven; the toll it was taking on her already strained heart.
She heaved herself to her feet, her eyes still on the scarecrow. No it wasn’t a trivial matter. If he could move life would be manageable. She dusted the skirt of her dress off and glanced around to be sure no one was walking along the road at that moment. Not many people passed by in a day, she lived far enough out that mostly farmers and their children wandered on their way to town or school.
She saw no one as far as her eye could see over the fields and sparse trees. Even looking back towards her little farm house and the barns no one was there. Her gaze fell on the scarecrow again, this time with a determination about her that was vaguely frightening. Then whispers spilled from her mouth in a language forgotten by but a few. Soft and hurried as she didn’t want anyone to see her out there, enchanting.
The scarecrow didn’t move, but a few pieces of straw fell from his sleeves. The woman smiled a warm smile- a satisfied and relieved smile. She had planted the seed, and now all she needed to do was wait.
But she didn’t have to wait long, for that night the scarecrow began the journey from inanimate object to flesh. His straw was traded for muscle and blood, and the wooden stake which propped him up was replaced with bone and ligaments.
By the time dawn arrived, he was a puddle of a human, sprawled on the dirt along the squash and pebbles. And the first thing he saw was the slick black feathers of a crow as the murder prodded him curiously.
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125,027 Literary Works • 672,774 Reviews
Hi there!
I really enjoyed this piece. I felt transported to the scene with your description and can definitely see this featured as a piece somewhere in a literary magazine for the fall season.
I just had a few proofreading edits I'd like to offer:
"A mere feet away, a woman rattled a broom high above her head, running at a murder of crows who were happily fralicing in the squash field." ("fralicing" to "frolicking")
When you mentioned the scarecrow wearing a masquerade mask do you mean the masks worn at masquerades with the beads and feathers though perhaps not so adorned? I was a bit thrown off by that part.
"The scarecrow remained where he was, unmoving, unspeaking and altogether, not responding to her at all." (the comma after "altogether" would be better placed between "unspeaking" and "and" to help the sentence flow better)
"Or maybe she was getting a headache from constantly worrying about those birds- an actual, real life, headache." (what do you mean by emphasizing her head ache as actual real life? If "headache" is meant to describe the stress the crows cause her I would suggest using a different word such as "nuisance" or "problem" - "an actual real life nuisance/problem" though that's just the way I interpreted it)
Overall, your story was written very well and offered a practical glimpse into the life of a witch that kept me engaged to the end. Also, I think developing this piece into a novel would be a great idea!
Thank you for the review! c: Yup the plan is to write a novel on this! ^_^
Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),
Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!
First Impression: Well...this was a fun little story...I kinda wish this was a novel that had another part to it...but oh well...still a very enjoyable short story.
Anyway let's get right to it,
For a second I was...umm...shocked for a second thinking we're diving into some kind of crow murdering frenzy story before I realized this is actually the way you talk about a group of crows. Well...that aside, nice little image to start the story off with.
Oh the crows have had a fair amount of training for this sort of thing, I'm sure. They're always practicing.
Well that was low...blaming the scarecrow...unless the scarecrow is somehow alive of course...which we don't quite know I guess...oh well...let's where this goes, so far I am laughing.
Hmm...*scratches chin*
Okay...that paragraph took off in a few different directions...umm...hmm...I had to read that twice to decipher the meaning...probably just me being stupid but you never know...well...on the bright side, spells are always fun although true...you shouldn't waste them...unless of course you have a bunch to spare.
Yeah when you put it that way...I would say that is most definitely not trivial...yup...she needs to invest in a better/magical scarecrow...
Hmm...good that she looked around...soo many people forget to do that in countless novels.
Hmm...magical languages and there tendency to be forgotten, sad that this keeps happening. If only there was a language that no one forgot.
Ohhh...its one of those spells huh...
Aaaand things proceeded to get very interesting....well...that's a decent place to end...although now I kinda really want to know what happens next.
Aaaaand that's it for this one.
Overall: Overall this was a pretty fun story to read. Its funny in some parts...or at least I found it funny...and still gets across a pretty deep plot...which is a great combination to have. Anyways that's all I gotta say.
As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.
Stay Safe
Harry
Thanks for the review! And actually this is hopefully going to be a novel at some point.
Ooh this is an intriguing start to what I’m sure will be a great novel! (If you do decide to expand this short story, which I hope you do! ^_^)
Anyways, here are some thoughts I had while reading this:
I love the description here; tangerine is a beautiful color!
One thing I might suggest, though, is to change the word “thud” to a lighter word, if that makes sense. Personally, I think of clothes as soft and not really capable of making a thud noise, so maybe you could use “brush”, “flap”, or “flutter” instead? Totally optional of course, just my opinion.
I’m also really happy that you wrote “murder” instead of “flock” here; not only is it technically correct but the phrase also contributes to the halloween-esque mood!
And that mood is present here, too...
Yes yes yes, magic! I’m excited to see how it works in this world~ *.o˚*°
One thing I’m a little confused about is why the reality of the headache is emphasized. Does the old woman not usually get headaches? Is it a part of her magic?
Another slightly unclear part, although it’s more of a wording thing:
I think I get the point that not many people pass by where this woman lives, but perhaps you could clarify the sentence a little? For example, you could do something like, “She lived far enough out from town that people rarely passed by, but she looked around just in case.” That’s how I might do it, although what you do is completely up to you of course! ^-^
Great imagery here! The “spilled” makes it seem like the words are fluid (like a waterfall of magic, maybe?), and overall it creates a really nice image in my head ^_^
Oohh the scarecrow is alive now! :eyes: Makes me want to know what happens next...
One question I have though: the “puddle” part makes me wonder whether something went wrong with the spell, like if his bones liquefied or something? O.O Or is this just a metaphor to say that the scarecrow was collapsed on the dirt? Either way is cool, just curious :p
Overall I really enjoyed reading this short story (the plot is awesome) and I hope you keep writing!
Have a great day/night,
Spearmint
Ahh <3 Thank you so much for the review and kind words! C:
The puddle description was something I just put in there, and even as I wrote it I was like "a puddle? >.>" XD So I'll probably change that. Same with the 'real life headache' XP I'm gonna change that too. And yeah <3
Oh ok, sounds good! Also you%u2019re very welcome for the review, it was my pleasure ^o^ <333