The Jolly Scarecrow perched upon his pole and looked out across the valley. Everything was calm and still. No screaming crows or ravens perched on the corn. No scurrying rat skulked among the wheat. No buzzing locust descended upon the vines. Everything was perfect.
When rain fell, fat and heavy and black with soot, it knocked the unharvested apples from the trees, where no intruder plucked them from the ground.
Since the noise and fire on the horizon, no humans came in their noisy machines to cut down stalk and branch.
All was as it should be. The scarecrow beamed.

“Scarecrow” by Jack W. Pearce is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.

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