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The Scarecrow Counts to Twelve

horrorEveryone
5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep

Wren panics and shoves the scarecrow hard. It tips off its pole and crumples in the dirt, just straw and old cloth. For a second Wren feels brave. Then every crow in the county lifts off the trees at once and turns to face the hill, hundreds of black eyes locking onto Wren.

Wren runs. The crows pour down off the hill in a screaming black wave and Wren never reaches the fence. When the snow comes, there are twelve empty houses instead of eleven, and a fresh scarecrow stands on the pole, stitched smile pointing at no one at all.

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