FLASH-FIC IS HERE
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Each Friday a new prompt will be posted along with the previous week's winners.
What exactly is a Flash-Fic? It's pretty much a spur of the moment, tiny
story, prompted by words, images or silliness. Not sure if you've ever
been on twitter when this has happened, but it's pretty awesome when it
does. It also happens often in threads, with a combination of people
How does it work? Each Friday one admin of TLS
posts a picture prompt here to the blog. Using this image, entries are
created by commenting on this post. Submissions must be 100-300 words
ONLY. No more, no less. The entries are then judged and we post the
winners here, each Friday, to share with all of you.
You will have until next Wednesday at 9 p.m. EST to submit your entry.
Picture prompt and judge this week is Edmazing.
Please leave your submission in the comment section at the bottom of the post using this format:
- Your name (use your Twitter, Facebook or FFN name)
- Your link to your FFN profile if you choose to share it
- Submissions will be judged on Thursdays and on Friday the winning entry will be posted here, on the TLS blog.
This feature is open to everyone, so come one, come all!
FF link: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2593677/cullenstwimistress
Word count: 300
My heart is going to beat right out of my chest and land on the ground.
The sound of my own scream gets lost in the midst of the rustling branches and leaves. I know she’s out here.
I saw her run out of the church, down the gravel driveway and into these woods.
Where is she?
With every inhale and exhale, my ribs ache from the cool air filtering in my lungs.
Leaning against a fallen tree, I spot a beaten path and an opening with some steps that seem to be carved out of the earth and trees.
“Bella?” I sigh, my voice faltering when I see her small figure balled up with her shoulders hunched and shaking; her white dress dirty and snagged.
She looks up at the sound of my approaching footsteps. Her cheeks are stained black from the mix of tears and mascara; her eyes shallow and her lips quivering.
“Edward?” Her voice is strained, but soft.
“Why did you run?” I kneel on the step below her and wipe her cheeks, listening to her sniffles as she stares at my face, her eyes wild.
“I couldn’t … I just couldn’t.”
My eyes bore into hers. For a brief moment I forget I was supposed to be the best man.
She breaks out in another round of sobs and I instinctively wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me. I love this woman. More than I should. Seeing her like this absolutely breaks me.
“I can’t marry him, Edward.” I feel her lips against my skin as she speaks. The mere whisper of her breath sends a chill through my body.
I pull back slightly, searching her eyes. “Why not, Bella?” I implore, needing answers.
“Because he’s not you.”
word count: 300
She laughed at his seriousness.
Sixteen and tangled up, twirling, star gazing through treetops.
“I want a love that breathes meaning into life!” she screamed into the night. “A love that wants happiness above all else, no matter the cost.” Her words sprouted wings, twinkling into the sky like fireflies. “Do you believe in that kind of love, Edward?”
Spellbound, his heart clamored wild and uncertain.
“Oh, but you’re only thirteen,” she laughed again, floating down to earth to kiss his nose. “How would you know?”
But he did know. The stars counted how many times he’d dreamed of her, infinite, never-ending. He is a supernova; fated to burn and die and be born again.
She spins again and he is a North Star, knowing as long as he breathed he would love her.
The scandal was legendary, whispers and shock, a cake that would never be eaten.
He ran, only him, because the trees hid secret places only they knew.
Twenty-eight and she’s beautiful still, even broken and wet-eyed, sprawled in the grass. Her white satin sparkled in the few sunbeams that survive the twisted canopy of leaves.
“I’m sorry,” he said, out of breath. He jerked his bow tie and threw it on the ground.
“It doesn’t feel real..." slowly, her voice faint. “Everything’s muffled, in a mist. I feel like water draining through too much sand.”
Dropping to his knees, he lifted her chin.
“Don’t." She wiped under her eyes. “I was pretty an hour ago.”
He shook his head, kissing her fingertips.
“He didn’t love me, not really. I only saw what I wanted to see.” Her head lay soft against his shoulder. “Why didn’t I believe you?”
“Edward.” Sniffing, she trembled against him. “Will you stay?”
“Always," he whispered. "I’ve been here the whole time.”
Word Count: 298
I find you over the rise of the hill. Your dress and tears, all for him, fall into the dust.
You turn to me with red-rimmed eyes and ask me why he does this to you.
I don't know. It's all I can say, because if you were mine ...
Like the hundreds of times before, I wrap my arms around you. Whisper words to dry your tears and make you smile.
I press my lips to your hair. Summertime and pear drops.
Lace my fingers with yours, brushing my thumb over the raised silver line on your wrist—a childhood memory of our tree house.
I know the story behind every single mark on your skin.
I know you hate jelly and love peanut butter.
You love to dance to rock music but secretly adore terrible 80's pop.
You look at me with deep brown eyes, brimming with hurt, rejection, and betrayal. I want to punch his face, break something so he stops doing this to you.
The sunshine has kissed your freckles. A constellation I could draw with my eyes closed.
I hold you and tell you you're my world. An old joke you always giggle at, but it's so true.
I'll never love anyone the way I love you.
He comes to find you.
You tell me you'll be back later. Leave me with a hope-filled smile that'll be crushed the next time he feels like it.
I sit alone and watch the sun set fire to the sky.
To you, I am a safe harbour from the storm, but truthfully, I'm a ship tossed against razor sharp rocks, splintered and sinking. I can feel myself drowning, and for the first time, I realise I have to save myself.
Tomorrow, I'll tell you I'm leaving.
Word Count: 300
“Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.”
Mrs. Brandon’s words run through my head again. Although she was teasing, her statement still struck a chord with me. A really fucking depressing chord.
Reaching down, I grab the champagne bottle by the neck and take several sips. The joy I felt three hours ago when Alice and Jasper exchanged vows is fading with the sunlight, quickly being replaced by self-pity. Both of my best friends are married now. And I’m alone. No one to bring along when I meet friends for drinks. No one to kiss. No one to huddle under the covers with on chilly nights.
Unless you count the cat.
Sighing, I set the bottle on the stair beside me and bend forward, resting my flushed forehead against the cool satin of my dress. Although Atlanta-born Jasper hardly has an accent, Alice decided on a Southern-themed wedding, trapping me in a pale yellow, Scarlett O’Hara gown all day. A stark contrast to the short, black bridesmaid dress I wore at Rosalie’s wedding last month.
“Miss? Are you okay?”
Startled, I sit up quickly and look at the shadowy figure standing two steps below me. He’s tall, wearing a dark suit. Since the setting sun is shining in my eyes, he’s also faceless. I squint, but still can’t see him clearly.
“Yeah, thanks. I needed some air.”
Laughing, I pick up the bottle and shrug. “It’s a celebration. Want some?”
“I don’t drink with strangers.”
“Bella.” I hold my right hand toward him. When his warm fingers wrap around my palm, squeezing gently, the current that spreads up my arm is surprising… strong… breathtaking.
“Bella,” he repeats. Shifting his stance slightly, he blocks the sun and I look into the most brilliant green eyes I’ve ever seen. “Hi. I’m Edward.”
I run through the underbrush as fast as my bare feet will carry me. Even the sharp rocks scattered about in the dirt, don’t register on my soles the way the pain does in actual soul. The twigs crunch, snap, and break beneath me but I don’t stop until I get closer to the little creek down below.
This is our place, where the forrest—in all of its emerald and azure and magenta grandeur—breaks into a field of wildflowers, dancing and reaching up toward the bright sunshine.
I waited under that makeshift chuppah as attendees and even the preacher scrambled around trying to find you. But the more time that passed, the more apparent it became that you weren’t going to show. So, I ran.
The sob rips from my chest as my legs finally give way, and I sit with my face in my hands as tears stream through my fingers, down my arms, and drip onto my white satin dress. Why aren’t you here? We’ve planned this for months, yet I am left in trembling humiliation in front of all our guests.
A rustling in the shrubs beside me barley registers against the ache inside. But when your glorious face appears, and I can see that you’ve been seeking me out just as frantically as we had been looking for you, my tears dry up.
Your eyes take in my dress for the first time.
“Wow.” Though I’m a disheveled mess, the words out of your mouth are filled with lust and love, swirling magically into the crisp mountain air. Then you see the mascara running down my face and pull me to my feet and into your strong arms. “So sorry I’m late, love.”
Word Count: 299
The cold hard cement of the stairs was seeping into my skin. I could feel the pebbles grinding into my ass cheeks like tiny marbles.
I was supposed to be marrying the love of my life. How does a simple girl like me, end up marrying someone like him?
Exquisiteness in male form, bronze hair, green eyes and the longest fingers I’ve ever seen. Oh what those fingers do!
Too perfect. I need to rethink our impending nuptials before it’s too late to back out.
Shit, I’m a fucking idiot!
I love him, he loves me!
Standing up I brush my bum off, turning around quickly to run back to the sanctuary so he can’t change his mind!
I’m startled to see him standing there. His hand is outstretched to me, the smile on his face assuring me that we truly are meant to be.
“I figured you’d be back here,” he said sweetly, his green eyes blazing into mine, his smile wide and happy.
“I needed a moment, a time to reflect, if you will,” I replied, my voice soft, grabbing his hand, getting close in his embrace.
“Well I certainly hope you haven’t changed your mind and decided to marry that dog, Jake, instead?” he questioned, his brow raised, smirking while looking down into my eyes.
I smacked his chest, laughing lightly, saying, “No! Not Jake, only you... only you forever.”
He pulled me closer, leaning down to place the gentlest of kisses on my lips.
As we walked away I looked back over my shoulder to that cement step, I knew that our life might be like that sometimes. Hard, rough, rocky, but knowing it would be worth it in the end because what we had together was sturdy and strong, just like the cement.
The Lemonade Stand would like to also thank all of the participants. We thoroughly enjoyed ALL of the entries.