She let him pull her away
from the church hall, away from the lights
and the dance music, into the fields beyond.
She knew it was wrong, but met his lips for a
kiss, not caring where his hands roamed. When
he drew her down onto the soft grass she
leant into his touch, fitting herself to him
like a shoe to the arch of a foot. Until...
"Ray, stop. We're being watched."
His teeth gleamed in the
moonlight. "It's only Tom Hubbard's
scarecrow, with his floppy hat and the
stuffing leaking out of his arms."
She relaxed, murmuring as he
The farmer grinned, secure in
his disguise, watching as they coupled. The
sun broke over the horizon, gilding his hat.
Feeling its warmth he gasped, limbs turning
to wood, hair to straw.
Soon there was only a scruffy
old scarecrow, flapping forlornly in Farmer
Hubbard's abandoned field.
* * *
© Fiona Glass
(Originally published by Pill Hill Press.)