By day I'm a video game consultant, and I also volunteer at the German Shepherd Dog Welfare Fund - the charity that rescued the dog I adopted last year. I've also recently started compiling a website covering the history of the village I live, although I'm hoping to draw in some help for that project! Here is scratchpad when I need it, and a place for my personal projects. It's also an archive from back when this was was my writing blog.
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Sunday, 21 September 2014
Short Fiction - Lonely by Mark Alan Trimeloni
Mark Alan Trimeloni's story 'Lonely' was the third place winner in December 2013's short fiction contest.
Lonely by Mark Alan Trimeloni
http://www.myhorrornovel.com
Jeremy looked at the sun hiding playfully behind a palm tree. The warmth a feeling he was not used to. He’d spent the last month in bed crying. His father appeared to him in the glow of the radiant orb, hovering so beautifully near the end of the day. A sullen man with nothing but love for his only child. The feel of warm kisses passed over Jeremy’s face. In his hand a worn birthday card dangled. The words on the front read, “To My Favorite 8 Year Old”. Inside, in a broken scrawl, were the words, “I won’t be able to make your birthday this year. I have to go home. Love, Dad.”
Blood covered the image of a cake festooned with playful monkeys forming a number “8”. Along the back of the card more crimson deleted two sets of footprints leading down a beach. The caption read, “Where ever we go we have each other.” Jeremy put his hands over his face and his dad disappeared. He felt chills climb up his back as a hand rested on his shoulder. A scent of aftershave filled his “smeller” as his dad used to call his nostrils before placing two fingers on either side and saying, “I got your nose.”
“Daddy you can take my nose again. Just please don’t go away.” Jeremy felt another hand on his shoulders. A vision of blood trickling down from a man’s fingers to paint the carpet red entered Jeremy’s mind. He froze remembering when he’d seen all the sticky liquid pooling around his feet. His dad swung from the ceiling of his bedroom. Seven clowns circled his father’s head like a halo. A fallen angel caught on a rope around its neck. Both wrists slashed. The hand moved down Jeremy’s shirt and across his chest. He barely noticed.
“Will you be taking me home with you?” The question barely a whisper in the coming darkness. “I’ve been waiting the past month for you, daddy. I swear I’ll be really, really good this time.”
“Oh, I’ll be taking you home alright.” Came a low, gravelly voice from behind. Jeremy felt the hand move across his stomach and leaned into the touch. “I have games we can play.”
Jeremy knew the games would be fun. His dad always came up with the best ones.
“Why did you leave, daddy? Was it because I was bad?” Jeremy felt his shirt being removed.
“Yes, you were bad.” The voice moved to within inches of his ear. Jeremy felt his father’s lips move along the edge. Warmth radiated from his father’s tongue. “And you will have to be punished. Do you agree?”
“I’ll do anything you say, daddy.” Jeremy felt his hands being secured behind him. The punishment was beginning.
“Just say you love me.” Came the reply.
“I love you, daddy.”
As the sun went down behind the palms, only a birthday card remained.
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