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Weekly Contest #103
He stood in the middle of the farm, motionless like a statue. His eyes couldn’t blink. They were fixed on the horizon, many miles away, and so was his mind. He was buried in thoughts, so deep you would think he was sleeping while standing or he was a scarecrow made by a fine artist.The wind blew against him trying to force him to sit, but he couldn't move. The sun tried to burn him to move him into a shadow, he still couldn't move. He stood still. They gave up and sought the help of a human. She came to their rescue and called him in a soft ...
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