Colter had begun lifting his father’s old iron weights at thirteen, with the intention of eventually rivaling the Sneed twins who lived up the street; these two were big boys, with piggish features like their reverend father.  Always squinting through watery pale eyes across the bridge of each runny pug nose, the two Sneeds had pink splotchy skin that turned various shades of purple upon excitement or exertion.  Although, the Sneed brothers were a touch asthmatic, always wheezing before doubling over when forced to run in gym, none of the kids ever laughed at their spectacle for fear of condemnation to hell, or if you were smaller, you ran the risk of being sat on and smashed beneath the seat of a Sneed.

Colter Wayne Hobbes