Doug

Doug was a hard worker and a capable man, they were the only two currencies with which he was blessed, but with them he felt like he could purchase anything. He had inherited his father's terrible luck and had never been to school, he didn't make much money but that didn't concern him. Doug felt as long as he could get his hands on a book, or even better talk to someone who knew, he could complete any task. His faith lie in the principle that all obstacles yield to persistence, his inevitable truth of the universe, of which any failure could be cured with intensity and duration. A failure was not a lack of skill, Doug felt he had little skill, but a personal surrender to defeat.

Because he could not afford nice things Doug set about perfecting everything he owned. He focused on his car, and made every modification he could manage. He tinted the windows, tinkered with the engine, added a coffee can exhaust and a body kit. The fiberglass draping on his bumpers was a different color because Doug hadn't yet met anyone who would let him use their painting booth, but he was looking. The paint was not a terrible match, though, and he felt proud driving it around, knowing he had done it all himself. Coming out of the grocery store where he worked he found an ugly tear in the fiberglass bumper which had been bent completely forward, exposing the naked wheel well of his Honda. It was late and the parking lot was empty, there was no evidence of who had done this. Doug kicked the ruined flap of bumper and it vibrated ineffectually. He kicked it again and cursed loudly, then stood with his hands on his hips looking down with frustration. His breathing slowed and he remembered the universe and his terrible luck, then began planning on who he could talk to about patching fiberglass.