Before I begin, let me just say that the following is from my actual yellow writing journal. I am always looking for ideas for the subject of my next piece. My pieces are usually kept short, just one page front and back. Please post your suggestions here OR on my author facebook page, where I will also be posting these. My plan is to post one per week.
When I opened my eyes I saw pumpkins. A large field of pumpkins. The wet dirt soaked my clothes and I could smell the field – the dirt, the plants, the scent of lingering rain.
Pushing myself off the ground to stand, I realized that the field was larger than I had imagined with a yellow farmhouse and red barn in the distance. Between my position and the barn was a T-shaped post, where a scarecrow would be hung. There was no need.
There were no crows or any bird sounds, for that matter. I caught the brief scamper of a mouse, but that was all. The only sounds were of the wind rustling distant leaves and a strange heavy shifting sound like an armful of hay plopping down from a barn loft – only the barn was too far away.
How did I end up in this strange field? I couldn’t remember.
Wet wranglers and a clammy flannel made me frown. They had been washed and freshly ironed when I was at the market. I moved slow, stepping over pumpkin plants, as I headed towards the yellow house.
I stopped when I heard the heavy shifting sound again. I turned and saw a pile of fabric and hay not too far away. The hat blew in the wind, flopping on the ground.
A chill ran down my spine and I tried quickening my pace. I stopped when I heard the heavy sound again.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the pile of clothing and hay had moved! It was closer.
I hopped over the next row of pumpkins and quickly turned.
A man-sized scarecrow with an eerie grin stood there watching me.