Awful Peter and his coat of terrible things
The face was ugly so Awful Peter was the subject of much mockery and spite. Finding things, such as a
broken and dead bird, were rather delightful and the only people that Awful Peter was able to keep in his
company were imaginary and would preach at great lengths of Awful Peter’s glory and virtue to an
audience of no one except Peter himself.
Awful Peter liked to gather, and he gave birth to The Large Pile, a collection of objects similar only
because each item was very shiny. The Large Pile was indeed very large, an impressive feat as it was
comprised mainly of small objects such as bottle caps, coins, a broken pocket watch, and scraps of tin.,
but the true champion of the pile was the skeletal framework of a mechanical pig which had been speckled
in bits of rotting pig flesh when first pried from the earth.
A gift from the garbage was given one day by Awful Peter to a girl he fancied, it seems as if Peter found an
eyeless rag doll that had been mauled by a dog. The girl laughed and laughed, spit upon the earth, and
laughed some more.
“PERHAPS……….perhaps, I will be beautiful if I bathe my body with beautiful things.”
And thus the coat of terrible things was brought to life with much death.
Buried within the large pile were Awful Peter’s special things, secured inside a sock. He dug and dug until
that sock was in his hand. Inside was a small scissors, a picture of a naked woman, and a sizeable rock
for braining. Peter needed all of these things right now.
Happening outside he met a lonely dog whose fur had once been silky and bright but had long since fallen
to the woes of burrs and dirt.
“Admiral Dog of the highest rank no doubt. You’ll clean up like a proud hero with a bit of a brushing.”
And with this Awful Peter beat the dog into it’s death.
As he was gathering up the fur into his greedy hands he was approached by a young child who was very
curious as to what he was doing.
“Small girl, I cannot help but notice the bows and your hair and the roses in your cheeks. I simply must
have you’re entire face. It will find it‘s new home against my flesh”
And off came the face.
Stupid Peter, don’t you know, death makes everything hideous when brought upon by a rock!