Diarrhea Dan – Part 1
*Diarrhea Dan is a character loving husband suggested. In the creative writing class I was taking we were told to write about a character focussing on showing, not telling, how they looked, and I was stumped. So, LH said “I know, you should write about a guy named Diarrhea Dan, but never tell people why he’s called that!”. So… here he is.
Diarrhea Dan pulls his toque down low before he sets off to perform his morning park patrol.
It’s a tick of his, a sort of morning grooming routine to help keep the dark curls under control and out of his eyes.
He knows other men his age would probably love his full head of hair. No widow’s peak on him, but Diarrhea Dan couldn’t care less. The material world and self-vanity are two things he walked away from five years ago.
His large frame stoops under the pressure of the memory whispering of five years ago. Of the event that changed his life forever. He can’t go there. Ever. It’s a scab that can’t be picked at, because if it were he’s not sure what sort of madness he would unlock.
He feels his secondhand boot sinking into the wet grassy path as he strides forward. From a distance, in another setting, in another time, one might think “so, that’s what a lumberjack looks like”.
His appearance always confused people. In his old life, his large frame did not suit his profession.
People always envisioned the stereotype image of a geek when they thought of a computer coder.
Thin, pale, and friendless. Not big, inquisitive, and caring. Because Diarrhea Dan wasn’t always homeless, and he wasn’t always angry.
There was a time he had it all. Love, money, a home, even the white picket fence.
Five years ago he was a different man.
Diarrhea Dan stuffs his hands deeper into his pockets, almost trying to physically bury the memories deeper into his subconscious, beating them down, afraid of both the memory and of never remembering again.