Grace Saunders
11-01-2024, 10:15 AM
"You're telling me you've never heard of Greendykes?" Sam looked at Mark with disbelief, his eyes wide and incredulous. "It's the dump everyone talks about, man. The kind of place you only go if you're desperate or lost."
Greendykes was a grimy, run-down neighborhood on the outskirts of town, notorious for its inhabitants. People whispered about them in the same way they might speak of a haunted house - with a mix of fear and morbid curiosity. It was said that the residents were not like the rest of society; they were the ones who had slipped through the cracks, the forgotten ones, the lost causes.
And Peter was the poster boy for Greendykes. He was a weed of a man with a strange smile and vacant eyes that revealed a mind that didn't quite work like everyone else's. His friends, if you could call them that, were few and far between, mostly those who knew him from the days when they were all children, playing in the junkyard that had become their playground. They had grown up together, but Peter had never really grown up. He remained in a perpetual state of childlike wonder and confusion, a fact that both endeared him to some and repulsed others.
His most notable feature was his long, unruly foreskin. It was a subject of much amusement and ridicule among the less kind residents of Greendykes, who had taken to calling him "Dumb Peter the Fore-Skin." It was a cruel twist of fate that Peter's one distinctive feature was also his greatest source of embarrassment. He tried to hide it, tucking it into his pants and avoiding situations where it might be seen, but whispers and laughter followed him wherever he went.
Greendykes was a grimy, run-down neighborhood on the outskirts of town, notorious for its inhabitants. People whispered about them in the same way they might speak of a haunted house - with a mix of fear and morbid curiosity. It was said that the residents were not like the rest of society; they were the ones who had slipped through the cracks, the forgotten ones, the lost causes.
And Peter was the poster boy for Greendykes. He was a weed of a man with a strange smile and vacant eyes that revealed a mind that didn't quite work like everyone else's. His friends, if you could call them that, were few and far between, mostly those who knew him from the days when they were all children, playing in the junkyard that had become their playground. They had grown up together, but Peter had never really grown up. He remained in a perpetual state of childlike wonder and confusion, a fact that both endeared him to some and repulsed others.
His most notable feature was his long, unruly foreskin. It was a subject of much amusement and ridicule among the less kind residents of Greendykes, who had taken to calling him "Dumb Peter the Fore-Skin." It was a cruel twist of fate that Peter's one distinctive feature was also his greatest source of embarrassment. He tried to hide it, tucking it into his pants and avoiding situations where it might be seen, but whispers and laughter followed him wherever he went.