Ugly Man
#23 of 52 Fictions: A Story a Week for 2026
I once knew a man who hated beautiful things. He felt that he was himself extremely ugly, and it seemed to him that people looked at him with disgust or dismay or pity. To look at something beautiful was only to remind himself of what he lacked. Beauty to him was like a stick in the eye. Also, he learned over time, if you want the things that no one else wants, then you can always get what you want.
So it was that he had an ugly dog and ugly friends. What are you visualizing? No, make it uglier. He dated ugly women. He lived in an ugly house with ugly paintings on the walls and ugly little statues in the yard. He wore ugly clothes, drove an ugly car, listened to ugly music, and read ugly books.
Perhaps you would not expect it, or perhaps you would, but he was a very kind man. He was kind to his ugly dog, to his ugly girlfriends, to his ugly friends, and even to his ugly car.
Once, I tried to suggest to him that his kindness was beautiful, but he said that kindness is not beauty, and they should not be confused. He said that kindness and beauty were different categories, like cats and planets, and you wouldn’t say that a cat was a planet.
But then, I said to him, he must find beauty within ugliness. He shook his head and said that beautiful is beautiful, and ugly is ugly, and you can’t find beauty within ugliness, like finding a coins in a sofa, that was ridiculous.
When I offered that his kindness had kindled a beauty inside of me, and I was grateful to know him and glad for his friendship, he said, in his kindly way, that of course he was kind to me because he was kind to everyone, but he could not be my friend, because I was not ugly enough.
You never know what you will do in such a situation until it happens. I considered a number of objections I might make. “I’m hardly a movie star.” “I’m really ugly on the inside.” “Are you just saying that because you don’t like me?”
But, in the end, I decided to just take the compliment.
Events: I will be participating in the the Lighthouse Lit Fest in Denver in a couple of weeks, where I will be teaching a seminar and participating in a reading. Lit Fest is a terrific event every year, and I encourage you to explore all of the options. I’d love to see you there.
My Lit Fest events:
Faculty Reading & Happy Hour — Friday, June 12, 5:00 - 6:00 — More info.
Seminar — Friday, June 19, 1:30 - 3:30 — How to Be an Asshole: Stories need villains and brutes, scoundrels and jerks, creeps and lowlifes. Collectively, let’s call them assholes. They create conflict, suspense, and intrigue. They’re often the most interesting characters in a story. But writers are, generally, nice people. How do we put ourselves into the mind of the asshole? How do we give them their humanity without denying their depravity? Let’s explore how to be an asshole (on the page) by exploring their mindset and ways to write it without becoming one ourselves. More info.
Background and implorements: I’m on a mission to write and post a story a week for 2026. Check out this article about the project in Westword!
The stories are free, but here are some other ways you can support the author:
Pass this story forward to a friend.
Post a link on your socials.
Post a review of one of the author’s books.
This story is by Nick Arvin. Check out the previous stories. The fabulous illustrations for these stories are by Erin Schoepke/Lunascape Photograpy. See more of her images here. Follow her on Instagram. No AI was used in creating this story or the illustration.