Flash Stories

Morning Announcement Gone Wild

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:21 p.m.

Scene: A typical morning news set. The bright, cheery music fades as the camera zooms in on two co-hosts, Alice and Tim, sitting behind a sleek desk. The studio is decorated with standard morning news decor: plants, mugs, and a large, flat-screen monitor showing the words “Good Morning, America!”

Alice (smiling, holding a coffee cup):
Good morning, everyone! It’s a beautiful Wednesday, and we have a very special segment lined up for you today. But first, let’s get to the headlines. Tim, what’s happening?

Tim (glancing at the teleprompter, looking puzzled):
Well, Alice, in a shocking twist, it seems that former President Donald Trump and Senator JD Vance have decided to take their morning political show... to the dance floor.

The screen behind them flickers and transitions to a clip of Trump and JD Vance on a stage, music blaring. The two are inexplicably dressed in matching neon tracksuits and doing a …

City Office Reopening Mayhem

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:20 p.m.

The city office had been closed for months, and on the first day back, Marcy, the office manager, could already feel the tension building. The smell of stale coffee and forgotten paperwork lingered in the air as she walked in, greeting the lone janitor who was still attempting to mop around the rows of cubicles, clearly unsure if this was part of his duties.

"It's happening," Marcy muttered under her breath as she adjusted her glasses and glanced at the calendar on the wall, the one that still read March 2020. No one had bothered to update it during the lockdown. “The reopening. The revolution of bureaucracy.”

The first sign of impending chaos came when Roger, the IT guy, walked in with a box labeled "New Computers" and a look of terror in his eyes.

“I have no idea how these work. The cables are all tangled, and someone left …

Undocumented Student Superhero

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:18 p.m.

Miguel had always been good at blending in. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. Living in Spokane as an undocumented student, he had perfected the art of invisibility. But everything changed the day Spokane Public Schools made an announcement: “In light of recent developments, we will be enforcing stricter documentation checks. Students must provide proof of residency and citizenship status.”

The news hit Miguel like a ton of textbooks. He imagined the halls of his school transforming into a labyrinth of paperwork and security checks, like some dystopian version of high school. There was no way he was going to let that happen.

That’s when Miguel’s alter ego emerged: El Protector.

“Wait, you’re not really going to—” his best friend Sam started, but Miguel had already donned his first layer of disguise: a neon-green hoodie that he found in the lost and found. He threw a …

Dangerously Cold Wind Chill Challenge

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:16 p.m.

Lenny had never been one to shy away from a challenge. So when he saw the weather forecast that morning—“Wind chill advisory: Dangerous conditions. Stay indoors if possible.”—he saw nothing but opportunity. He pulled out his phone and posted a quick video to his friends:

"Alright, folks, it’s -30°F outside, and I’m going to survive it with nothing but my wits and a little bit of creativity. This is the Dangerously Cold Wind Chill Challenge!"

The first step was obvious: bundle up. But Lenny, being Lenny, decided that regular winter gear was for amateurs. He donned four pairs of socks—three on one foot, because why not? He wrapped his body in every single blanket in his apartment, looking like a very frazzled, very overstuffed burrito. But that wasn’t nearly enough.

He grabbed a space heater and placed it next to him, cranking it up to its highest setting. The room …

Library Grand Re-Opening Disaster

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:14 p.m.

The doors of Oakwood Public Library swung open with the fanfare of a grand unveiling—at least, that’s how Marcy, the library director, had envisioned it. She had spent weeks planning the grand reopening, complete with a ribbon-cutting ceremony, speeches, free bookmarks, and a local choir to serenade the crowd with library-themed songs. She was sure it would be the talk of the town.

The only thing Marcy hadn’t planned for was everything else.

It began with the ribbons. As Marcy, clutching a comically large pair of scissors, prepared to cut the ceremonial ribbon, the overly eager assistant librarian, Greg, made a mad dash to pull the decorative bow out of the way. Unfortunately, his timing was slightly off. He yanked the wrong ribbon, sending a cascade of balloons—tied to the archway—straight into the air and tangling themselves in the overhead ceiling fan.

The crowd gasped, but Marcy, ever the professional, …

Refugee Travel Chaos

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:13 p.m.

Hamid clutched his suitcase, which was somehow both too heavy to carry and too light to contain anything important, as he stared at the chaos unfolding in Terminal 4. The flight attendant at the gate was arguing with a man in a three-piece suit who looked like he’d missed his yoga class and taken it personally, while a TSA agent shouted, “No exceptions!” over the wail of a distant baby.

“Next!” barked the agent at the podium, her expression suggesting she had seen enough nonsense for three lifetimes.

Hamid shuffled forward, his sweaty hands slipping off the handle of his passport. “Uh, hello,” he began nervously, adjusting his too-large jacket that still smelled faintly of mothballs.

“Reason for travel?” the agent asked, snapping her gum.

“Refugee status. I have—”

“Yeah, about that.” She held up a hand, then jabbed her finger toward the giant screen above her. The words “REFUGEE …

Taurus Troubles

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:11 p.m.

Maggie had always taken her horoscopes seriously—maybe a little too seriously. As a proud Taurus, she knew she was supposed to be practical, grounded, and stubborn. But when she opened her astrology app that morning, her horoscope made her pause mid-sip of her matcha latte.

"Today, hidden challenges will test your resolve. Keep your wits about you."

Maggie’s eyes narrowed. Hidden challenges? What kind of challenges? Her mind raced. Was her boss planning to surprise her with a last-minute project? Was the barista going to forget her extra oat milk? Was Mercury retrograding again?

She threw on her "Taurus Energy" hoodie, grabbed her crystal bracelet (for protection, obviously), and set out to face the day, determined to uncover every "hidden challenge" before it could ambush her.

Her first stop was the coffee shop. She scrutinized the barista. “You didn’t forget the oat milk, right?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

The barista …

The Neon Night Basketball Blunder

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:09 p.m.

It was the biggest game of the season: Neon Night at the University at Albany. The arena was packed with students dressed in fluorescent shirts and glow sticks, the court bathed in blacklight. Every dunk, every pass, every cheer lit up in a psychedelic spectacle.

Chad “Buckets” Brody, star forward and self-proclaimed king of campus, was hyped. He’d spent the pregame hyping himself up in the locker room mirror, flexing and muttering, “MVP tonight, baby. MVP.”

But Chad had made one crucial error that morning. Somewhere between laundry day and his last Amazon shopping spree, he’d unknowingly grabbed a pair of glow-in-the-dark boxer briefs. Neon green. With flames.

The first half was uneventful—by Chad’s standards. A few three-pointers, a monster dunk, some chest bumps with his teammates. But then, midway through the second half, disaster struck.

After diving for a loose ball, Chad skidded across the court, landing on his …

The Last Scroll

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:06 p.m.

The screen froze mid-swipe.

“Error 403: Service Unavailable.”

I stared at my phone, my thumb hovering over the screen, waiting for TikTok to snap back to life. But it didn’t. The app just sat there, mocking me with its gray, lifeless error message.

“Mom!” I yelled, bursting into the kitchen. “It’s happening! They killed TikTok!”

Mom didn’t even look up from her coffee. “Good. You’ll finally have time for your homework.”

I rolled my eyes. “This isn’t just about TikTok, Mom. This is, like, the end of freedom.”

She smirked. “Pretty sure Jefferson didn’t write, ‘Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Dance Trends.’”

Back in my room, I flopped onto my bed, staring at my blank phone screen. The silence was deafening. Normally, this would be the time I’d watch someone bake a cake shaped like a frog or learn a new viral dance I’d never master. But now? Nothing.