A/N: This is a sneak peek for a little series of flashfics that I'm working on. They were inspired by a writing prompt provided by my awesome pre-reader meliz875. (You can view the prompt on the group page on Tricky Raven when it's posted.) There will be seven swains, seven chapters, and each chapter will be exactly 1000 words because I wanted to challenge myself to write a short short story with true limitations. So, minus a few spare words for author's notes and such, the story itself will come in at exactly 7000 words—good, bad, or ugly—when we reach the end.
A reminder: The Tricky Raven 2nd Annual Silent Auction is still underway and has not quite reached its goal yet. There is still time to donate and bid! You can bid on yours truly, of course, or another author who strikes your fancy, but do so quickly as time is running out!
A Good Fellow
She ran, but as it always ended, the dream brought her up short in the meadow—never fast enough, never smart enough, never quite enough to keep up, outwit, or anticipate her long-lost Edward.
Never good enough.
She sobbed in her dream and in the waking world as well—a lamenting cry of anguish heard by the wolven protector stationed outside her home—her longing for something unnameable.
"Desire."
Bella spun in the direction of the voice, her luxurious, mahogany hair whipping around her in a silky fan as she sought the origin of it in her dream.
"To be the object of it, passion's fire," he spoke again—a crooning lilt.
There, on the far side of the meadow stood a man, or perhaps a boy. He was of average stature with a slim build and wild auburn hair. As he approached, she noted the peaked tips of two pointed ears poking through the messy curls rioting around his face and neck.
Dressed simply, he wore a pair of leather leggings similar to what her Quileute friends wore for special ceremonies on the rez. The strap of a shabby satchel crossed his chest. In his bag, he tucked a small handmade pan flute—worn with years of use and obviously well-loved.
She demanded in a rush, "Who are you?"
"Robin Goodfellow is my name-"
"Puck!" she spat the moniker she knew.
He smirked and bowed, "The very same."
E/N: I only have three chapters left to complete today. Not sure when I'll start posting, but I guarantee it will be complete before I post the first chapter. No more new works in progress until Snowed In or LP9 are complete, I promise. ~Chrissi