Chapter 4
Classical Trash and Country Living
Waking only after at least two days of incoherence, Duke finally regained control of his corpse-like form and was able to rise.
Legs still tender from the other day’s dose of Beethoven and stitches pulling at sore, dry skin, Peter made his slow and careful way to the bathroom for a shower.
He knew not what time it was nor did he care. He had desperately needed a good rest and now, having accomplished his most basic and dire task, he was free to resume his unique existence.
Although it was not often, this tragic youth did in fact work. Knowing from an early age that he would be unable to adapt to a normal occupation and understanding that he would be inheriting all the funds he would ever need, Peter set his attentions on book dealing.
While he did buy and sell nearly every major work known to man, he was simply unable to leave some editions as they were. The books would call to him, taunt him, dare him to deface their valued pages and, being a dutiful man, Peter would complete their desires.
Caring not a hitch for relics of the past, he drew pictures of drunkards in Dickens’ epics, carved holes in Hugo’s yarns, and stored several small bugs he’d squashed in an incredibly rare edition of Maldoror, staining the pages with insect bile.
Not feeling particularly productive on this day, he neglected the pile of notes atop his desk representing different bids for his treasures and instead decided that it would do him good to take a trip into the countryside.
He hoped the fresh air would soothe the burning from the thread holding his form together and remove some of the horror from his mind.
His was a twisted hope, and one that required much planning. Getting to the country would be an issue since he believed trains to be vessels intent on capturing his soul for harvest with all the other cretins of the world.
He could walk, but it would be a very long journey at best and he might risk tearing a stitch free, so he settled on finding another mode of transport.
After several minutes of mental wandering, Peter Duke found his answer. It was in fact so simple that he could not believe even the tiny amount of time it took for him to invent it.
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