The man leaned against the chipped edge of the breakroom table, glancing at the clock. Lunch break was ticking by, and his childhood best friend was late—same old Jake, always running on his own time. They’d been inseparable since kindergarten, classmates through college, two sides of a coin. But life …

His arms encircled her neck, his forehead pressed against hers. Up close, his eyes searched hers, as if pleading to find the same desire mirrored back. I don’t love him, she thought, does he even realize?

He didn’t. His lips found hers, insistent, hungry. She kissed him back, but it …

Ethan nearly dropped his coffee when he saw him.

Across the café, a man sat alone, flipping through a book with the same lazy concentration Ethan had. Same sharp jawline, same unruly dark curls. Even the same nervous habit—tapping his fingers against the table in a steady rhythm.

It was …

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime. Lisa exhaled sharply, wiping a tear before it could smudge her mascara. She had just ended things with Jake, and her heart still pounded from the argument. She tapped the button for the lobby, ready to leave it all behind.

Then, …

Ethan folded his arms as the psychic, an older woman draped in violet silk, traced circles over a worn deck of tarot cards. The air smelled of incense and something older—like dust and secrets.

“This is nonsense,” he muttered, but curiosity kept him in his chair.

Madame Celeste only smiled, …

Eliza felt the sun caress her hair, turning the silver strands into gold. She smiled as she hung the silk lanterns on the porch, their soft light reflecting the warmth in Michael's eyes. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. "You look beautiful, my love," he …

Anya felt a pang of loneliness as she watched the couple walk by. They were holding hands, smiling, and laughing, oblivious to the world around them. They looked so happy, so in love.

They were not human.

They were Synths, hyper-realistic humanoid robots that had taken over the role of …

The Betrayal

Tom and Lisa walked home from school, their backpacks heavy with books. Tom had a list of groceries to buy for their mother, who had given him some money in the morning. Lisa, his younger sister, had a different idea.

"Tom, can we buy some ice cream? Please, …

I didn't expect this feeling to hit me like a dodgeball to the gut during Mr. Johnson's epic history lecture on, like, the bubonic plague or something. Jessica, who usually doodles unicorns with butterfly wings in her notebook, was taking actual notes. And for some reason, the way the light …

She found the letter in her mailbox. It was written on a fine paper, with a delicate handwriting. It was addressed to her, but it had no name or stamp. It was a love letter.

She read it with curiosity and wonder. It was full of compliments and confessions. It …

“Doctor, the transcription says the patient needs a cranial llama implant,” said Nurse Patel, her voice wavering between disbelief and laughter.

Dr. Ahmed snatched the tablet, squinting at the screen. Sure enough, the AI-powered transcription tool, MediType Pro, had confidently recommended the insertion of a “cranial llama implant” for a …

It was a quiet Tuesday morning, the kind of day where nothing much happened, but the world was always on the brink of something. The sky was clear, the birds were chirping, and the smell of coffee wafted through the air. But as people logged into their devices, something felt …

The sun had barely risen when the Ford Model T sputtered to life, its engine groaning as if reluctant to leave the familiar red soil of Mississippi behind. Clara Harris held her breath as the car rattled down the dirt road, the distant hum of the engine the only sound …

The king’s voice carried a musical rhythm as he began the next tale, as if echoing the melody of the story itself. The princess, already captivated by the flicker of the firelight and the deepening night, listened intently.
“Tonight,” he said, “I will tell you of Anahita, the Pari whose voice …

She had always dreamed of becoming a writer, but she never had the courage to start. She was afraid of rejection, of criticism, of failure. She kept her stories hidden in her notebooks, never showing them to anyone.

One day, she saw an advertisement for a flash fiction contest. The …