Mr. Holiday

By Michael J. Trabakino

Michael J. Trabakino lives in New York where he is currently studying at NYU’s School of Continuing and Professional Studies. When he isn’t writing or training his ferret Loki to live up to his namesake. He is listening to his favorite Classic Rock or 80’s Heavy Metal vinyls.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Nov 4, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483437415

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TRABAKINO

Copyright © 2015 Michael J. Trabakino.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-3741-5 (e)

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Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 10/27/2015

CONTENTS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

ONE

Do you see him? Amanda Walsh asks, her voice shaky, nervous and eager.

No, Alan Greene replies bluntly, glancing over his shoulder to look back at her. I don’t see anything now like I saw nothing when you asked five minutes ago god damn it, he wants to add but doesn’t. Not like he can see anything. Nothing beyond the front porch. Not since the storm worsened a little after six, well over four hours ago. Forget about hearing anything. Screaming winds obscure everything. Even the real ones.

Year after year, nothing changes. Christmas Eve in the town of Pleasance becomes clockwork. Every shop and restaurant are closed by four and everyone is in their homes by five. No one dares to be out past six. Not when the first wistful flakes begin to fall, and the sound of HIS heels can he heard all the way from Jefferson Avenue, striking their cobble byways.

Click, clack.

You hear them and you better run. Because if you’re caught, everyone will find out. Come Christmas morning when the little ones have finished opening their presents and are ready to go outside and play in the fresh powdery snow, there you’ll be in the center of town, on display for everyone to see hanging from that tree. Framed in gold, staring and smiling like a yearbook portrait, you’ll sway and