In the elegant field, the grass gently sways, as if never growing up, and the southward flight of the geese stirs up a pleasant breeze. Small, but enough to make the scarecrow dance.
I am a wooden man, more accurately a scarecrow. The quietest creature in this field, the birds are afraid of me, dare not chat with me. The grass doesn't talk to me either, because I never respond to them. I don't know what to do, but I feel like I'm waiting for something, maybe a wild hurricane to knock me down. Or perhaps a lost rain, crashing into my body, making my cheeks slightly moist.
I never cry. The wind says I'm not emotional enough, never sad. So they often come and go in bursts, never lingering.
This is enough to prove my dullness, I think, but I never admit it.
The arrival of rain makes me heavy, cheeks damp, making me very sentimental, and the wind often blows on me at this time.
But I think, when the rain comes, the wind leaves again.
When the rain came, it told me a sad story, one it learned while traveling in a small town.
The rain said, having lived half a lifetime, it found that perhaps little girls are the most pitiful creatures in the world. She was abandoned by the boy, the boy told her to her face.
The boy said, "I'm going far away, bye, take care of yourself, don't wait for me, I may never come back, don't ask me any more questions, I really can't answer."
The little girl threw herself at the boy, but he pushed her away, turned his head, bit his lip, trembling slightly. But he still irresponsibly walked away.
He may have cried, but his face was all rain, whether there were tears, I really couldn't tell.
The little girl really cried, sitting on the ground, crying loudly in confusion. That feeling, as if she had lost the whole world.
The rain fell on her shoulder, wanting to hold her tight.
The next morning, the boy quietly left the small town, leaving a letter on the table for his parents. The envelope was beautiful, a smiling scarecrow in the beautiful field under the sun.
The boy left very early, I bet, except for the early-rising cats and me. No one saw that thin and determined figure...
Later, the boy's parents kept looking for him. Later, the girl regained her smile. Later, the boy's parents left the small town. Later, the town's doctor whispered with moist eyes, "It's a pity, such a sensible boy, but what can we do?"
Later, the rain left the small town, surprised to find that it had gained weight compared to when it arrived.
The rain stopped there, seeming also very sentimental.
The sun smiled again, training the grass, telling them to exercise hard and not catch a cold.
But it seems I caught a cold, the rain moved into my body, I started to change, and the funny sight of the bending grass made me laugh.
A long-lost smile, this was what the sun said to me when it saw me smile.
I know, I haven't laughed in a long time. It all started when that bearded man in front of me cried and rolled on the ground, telling me that it would be so much better to become a scarecrow, no one loves you, yet everyone loves you, just stand there expressionless.
That afternoon, I promised the man to exchange souls with him, to endure all the sadness for him and forever remain expressionless. I thought, well, after all, I'm just a scarecrow, the man said to keep smiling, keep living hard, and then left.
The boy never came back, I think he may have met his parents who were always looking for him, and met the girl he hurt, promising to be good to each other forever.