Strange Yarns

The Mayor of the Roses

"What is this heinous creature?" The Mayor cried.

The poo covered man said, "I am a man like yourself, good sir." He then admitted that he must smell something awful, but that's what was necessary to grow the most pristine roses anywhere in the valley.

In front of the old poo covered man were bunches of the reddest roses anyone had ever seen. Truly beauts. Green stems that made you think of a park after rain. Red pedals the colour of a blush on the cheeks of a lover seeing their beau smile.

The Mayor cared not. He smacked the roses out of the old poo covered man's hands and stomped them into the ground.

"My friend," The old poo covered man said with white foamy grossness at the hinges of his mouth "Have a rose. They remind you that even beautiful things have thorns."

"What is that suppose to mean? Of course they have thorns. They're roses. Is this a weird metaphor? I don't get it. I probably don't get it because it's coming from a poo covered weirdo. And if there is one thing I know about deformed loathsome freaks it's that they are worthless and make no sense."

Everyone in town nodded in complete agreement. The out-of-town vendors also nodded as to not catch ire from anyone in town.

The Mayor removed his Egyptian cotton handkerchief and held it over his mouth as he continued his rant "I mean, you have poo in your ears. Your ears! And your eyes, they're not going the same direction. Ugh! Guards! Security! Gendarmes! Get this troll out. His stink has tainted our town forever."

"Please sir, I would like to stay to sell my beautiful roses."

"And I'd like you and your poo wagon to take a hike."

"Sir, please. I need to sell my roses. I have a family to feed."

"And I have a bar of soap to buy to wash my eyes to cleanse them of your repellentness. Who'll pay for that soap, poo-man?!"

The guards beat the poo covered man with sticks and the adorable children threw rocks at his face as he scrambled out of town.

+

That night as The Mayor was scrubbing off his exfoliating face cleanser he had a vision of the poo covered man. He shuddered. Ugly things always conjured the most uncomfortable feelings in our mayor; feelings of profound emptiness. Things should be beautiful. Beautiful things are pleasing and generally smell good. Even if they have thorns they still have petals on the top and that counted for more. He got into his goose down bed and closed his eyes. It was a trying day, probably the worst day of his life. But the good news is that the man was beaten severely and the cobblestone on which he stood were buried and replaced. Yes, tomorrow will be a prettier day.

+

It was a pleasant night as the moon rose above the hills of Stately Stone. The townsfolk had all gone to bed early as not to get wrinkles. Not one of them had any inkling that as they slept in their moisturizing facemasks that the poo covered man made a circle around the town. He was dropping seeds from a large sack he had slung over his humped shoulder.

It was almost sunrise and the circle of seeds was a mile in circumference. Its center, the granite stone that gave the village its name. The poo covered man prayed that the Great Old One would let his seeds grow, then he wandered on down the village road away from Stately Stone. He looked back and thought, Screw these handsome jerks. They gots whats coming to them. He made his way out of the valley and was never seen nor smelled again.

+

The next morning during the Monday ritual of walking through the town square and congratulating each other on how good looking they were, a blood curdling scream from beyond the walls stopped the procession.