Image courtesy of Unsplash.
The harvest
Butch looked at the vast corn fields spread out in front of him and his heart lifted. As far as the eye could see it was a sea of lush gold. A slight breeze was fanning the ears of the corn stalks and they seemed to beckon him.
The Sun had decided to call it a day and was preparing to retire .The sky blushed wearing the warm red and mellow orange coat. Time to pack up, thought Butch.
Whistling under his breath, he swung onto his truck and drove to his farm. This year, it was going to be a good harvest and he was pleased. He shed his work clothes, put them into the laundry basket and entered the shower. He was a man of meticulously clean habits.
Butch lived alone with only an occasional visitor. He neither entertained, nor attended any local social parties. The small community was used to his strange ways and left him to his devices. He was an excellent farmer and had the best livestock .The many awards adorning his living room was proof enough of that and the locals respected his need for privacy.
Dinner over, Butch decided to go check his most prized stock in the barn. The stack of gold in there brought a smile to his lips. He needed to add a few more this season. Picking up the scythe, the gloves and a small bag, he made for the darkening corn fields. As he walked through the corn stalks, they whispered to him,”Thirsty, thirsty, thirsty!”
Butch nodded and bent down to drag something from between the stalks. A golden haired young girl , bound and gagged, looking terrified, pleaded silently to be let loose. Butch lifted her to a sitting position and touched her hair reverently. He inhaled the fragrance of her glorious golden curls. It still smelled of the shampoo he had used last night. He took out a brush from his pocket and started combing her hair. All the while, he kept humming .The girl, unable to take it anymore had fainted.
This displeased Butch and he shook her like a rag doll, yanking at her hair, snarling at her lack of response. Then, releasing her, he fumbled in his bag and brought out a bottle of water, a pair of scissors and a jeweled mirror.
Sprinkling some water on the girl’s face, Butch revived her and then thrust the mirror into her tied hands. Gesturing her to look into the mirror, he expertly sheared off all her hair. As she watched in horror, he took out the scythe and with one sharp sweep chopped off her head. As the head rolled and blood pooled at the roots of the plants, he set to work, clearing the field of all evidence of his “ritualistic orgy”.
He had a lot to do before the Sun came up. He was happy to have this bounty of tonight’s harvest to add to his stock in the barn.
——————————X——————————
The above story was written for Write on Edge,writing prompt,2014,week 12. The challenge was to write a piece of fiction or poetry in 500 words or less(mine is 500 words,including the title)based on either the photo above (I decided to pick the photo)or use the quote ,”Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or a secret gate.” by J. R. R. Tolkien ,or use both.For more details or to participate please click on this http://writeonedge.com/2014/03/writing-prompt-2014-week-12/
Holy crap – this was creepy! I’m going along with the peaceful/loner farmer on a serene day, then BAM! Off with her hair… and then head!
I had to chuckle at your regular signature… it’s all happy and sweet- and seems so incongruous with the killer farmer 🙂
Ha1ha!What a pleasure it is to see such comments Janna,you have no idea my friend-it makes me want to keep going the crooked and wicked way,thank you so much for making me laugh and feel happy 😀
Re my signature,though it was not my intent then,I see what you mean and am feeling gleefully happy about it,(wicked laugh) 😉
Very well crafted. 🙂
Thank you YS:-)
🙂
Wow…. that sure took me by surprise…. You’ll need to do a follow-up where he gets caught… Diane
Ha!ha!Thanks Diane,I had a tough time cooking this up-and with my recent health snaffu,I don’t know how much writing/reading and commenting I will be able to do but who knows-maybe..;-)
You know about mine maybe? so what’s going on with you? Not to be nosy but because I care… Diane
Yes,your’s is way too difficult and you have really dealt with it bravely-for me it is just the start –so having a hard time adjusting to the life style changes Diane-mail me on gmail tonight and we can talk,ok?Tc and loads of love-I can never imagine you to be nosy 😀
I likely should have your gmail … but I can’t find it.. Could you contact me … I’m at writerwannabe232@hotmail.com Diane
Sorry Diane,today the net was down for 4-5 hours and I was running to read and vote before it closed on speakeasy-just finished and am totally drained-will write to you tomorrow for sure,thanks again,tc and lots of love
That did hit me right across the face ! 🙂
Thank you Indrajit 🙂
I ended up visiting your blog because I saw your comment on the yeah write #155 gargleblaster grid. Sorry you didn’t get a chance to link up. I hope you’ll get the opportunity next week to help celebrate yeah write’s third birthday. We’d also love to have you link up on our weekend moonshine grid. We love good stories, and there’s no limit on entries. Hope to see you at yeah write!
Thank you so much cynkingfeeling-I do write for Speakeasy though never tried my hand at moonshine grid-thanks for the invite,will try to join in-am a little low on energy just now but hoping to recover soon .Take care and thanks again:-)
Didn’t see that coming! A lovely slow build up to the shocking ending. Well done.
😀 thank you Sarah-I had hoped for such a n effect