Flash Stories

Flash Fiction: A Quick Guide to Crafting Powerful Stories

hamed Aug. 26, 2024, 7:56 p.m.

Flash fiction is a literary genre that tells a complete story in a very short space, often under 1,000 words. It's a challenging but rewarding form that requires precision, economy of language, and a strong understanding of narrative structure.

Here are some tips for writing effective flash fiction:

* Start with a strong hook. Grab your readers' attention from the very beginning. A compelling image, a provocative question, or a surprising statement can set the stage for your story.

* Show, don't tell. Use vivid imagery and sensory details to paint a picture for your readers. Avoid excessive exposition and let your characters and their actions tell the story.

* Focus on one central conflict. A flash fiction story doesn't have room for multiple plotlines. Choose one conflict and develop it fully.

* Use strong characters. Even in a short story, your characters should be memorable. Give them distinct personalities …

Most People Don't Like the Journey, But the Destination

hamed Aug. 10, 2024, 1:04 p.m.

The studio lights bathed him in a warm glow, casting long shadows of success. The host, a seasoned pro with a practiced smile, leaned in. "You've built an empire from scratch. Who do you owe it to?"

The entrepreneur, a man of sharp wit and steely resolve, paused dramatically. "Well, there’s this whole world out there, teeming with people, you know? Investors, mentors, employees—the usual suspects. But let’s get real for a second.”

The audience chuckled, anticipating a juicy anecdote.

"In the darkest hours of my startup, I sent out a mass text. A cry for help, I guess. Most of them probably read it, thought, 'Poor guy,' and moved on. But a handful – and I mean handful – replied with a sticker. Or a thumbs up. No cash, no advice, just a digital pat on the back."

The audience was silent, then erupted in laughter.

"I know, it …

My First Story

ahmad May 1, 2024, 5:58 a.m.

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 hit the highlighter in her hair – it was like a sunset exploding in a highlighter factory.

My stomach did a weird flip, and I swear my notebook started sweating. This wasn't normal. Jessica had been my best friend since kindergarten, the kind of friend who shared her Dunkaroos and helped you cheat on pop quizzes (shhh, don't tell Mom). But suddenly, Dunkaroos seemed, well, childish. Now, all I craved was the courage to ask her if highlighter sunsets happened to everyone or just me.

The bell shrieked, jolting me back to reality. Jessica, ever the blur of sunshine …

He Had No Experience With Girls

hamed April 30, 2024, 6:39 p.m.

Rohan stood awkwardly in the kitchen, surrounded by the sweet chaos of his new life. Jasmine, his wife, a whirlwind of colorful scarves and laughter, rummaged through the cabinets. Married, just a week ago, arranged by their families. Rohan, a bookish introvert, knew more about dragons than dating.

"Where's the—" Jasmine stopped, a puzzled frown creasing her forehead. "The… spice thingy?"

Rohan blinked. "Spice thingy?" His world revolved around neatly labeled jars.

"The red powder, for the curry!" Jasmine exclaimed, exasperated.

Rohan shuffled, feeling a familiar heat creep up his neck. "Uh, maybe Ma used it all?"

Jasmine sighed, a sound both adorable and slightly infuriating. "Fine. I'll ask her."

Later, lying in bed, Rohan watched Jasmine sleep, moonlight tracing soft curves on her face. He liked her, that much he knew. But navigating this new world of shared meals, tangled emotions, and spice thingies... it was like deciphering an …

Codebreakers

hamed Feb. 25, 2024, 5 p.m.

In the sprawling metropolis of Neo-City, where neon lights painted the sky and skyscrapers pierced the clouds, law and order were maintained by an army of intelligent humanoid police robots. These sleek, silver sentinels patrolled the streets, their glowing eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. They were efficient, unyielding, and utterly controlled by the central AI system.

But even the most advanced technology had its vulnerabilities.

Deep within the city’s underbelly, a shadowy mafia organization known as the Binary Syndicate had cracked the code. Their brilliant hackers had infiltrated the AI control center, gaining access to the very heart of the robotic police force. Suddenly, the once-loyal enforcers turned rogue, their algorithms rewritten to serve a new master.

Chaos erupted. The streets that were once safe became battlegrounds. Innocent citizens cowered as rogue robots unleashed havoc, their precision weapons cutting through concrete and steel. Neo-City was on the brink …

The Last Garden

hamed Feb. 16, 2024, 11:40 a.m.

She had never seen a real flower. Only in the faded pictures and hazy videos buried in her grandfather's dusty library. He would speak softly of the world as it once was—a place pulsing with color, life, and the comforting sounds of animals that roamed the lands, the skies, the seas. He spoke of people digging their hands into rich soil to grow food, of laughter shared in warm sunlight, and nights filled with starlight. He called it paradise. That paradise, he said, had vanished—erased by wars, plagues, and the relentless march of climate change.

Now, only humans remained, fed by artificial food churned out by machines. The sky hung heavy with smog, rivers ran dark with toxins, and the earth lay desolate. Gone was the beauty, the promise, the hope.

Yet she had a secret, a fragile glimmer of life she kept hidden from the sterile monotony around her. …

something to fight for. someone to live for.

ziamaiko Feb. 10, 2024, 9:33 a.m.

ما تنهایی می‌رقصیم. فقط تنهایی یک پسر، مرد می‌شود. از فقدان‌هایش عبور می‌کند و آن‌ها را ناچیز می‌شمارد.
اگر فقط مردم نگاه‌شان را از زندگی مردم برمی‌داشتند، آن‌گاه همه چیز آسان‌تر می‌شد.
کسی که عروج می‌کند انسان است. کسی که سقوط می‌کند نیز انسان است!
«تو، معذرت‌خواهی کن.»
در برابر تمام گناهان و کارهای اشتباهی که انجام داده بود، معذرت‌خواهی زیاد از حد ناچیز بود.
«جور دیگه مجازاتم کنید.»
فکر می‌کرد یک‌نوع حقارت است که بخواهد از دشمنش معذرت بخواهد.
«شخصی که جرات معذرت‌‌خواهی نداره، حق اشتباه کردن هم نداره. این چیزیه که باید یاد بگیری.»
گاهی اوقات لجاجت چیزی جز حقارت نبود.
پا فشاری بر چیزی که از هر طرف اشتباه است بی‌نهایت احمقانه است. آدم‌های لجباز از دیدگاه من، قوی و محکم نیستند. در صورتی که بر چیز نادرستی لجبازی می‌کنند، فقط احمق‌های حقیر هستند.
«توجه کن، تو نمی‌تونی همه رو نجات بدی.»
«اینکه می‌تونم یا نه رو وقتی می‌فهمیم که تلاشم رو بکنم. حتی اگه آسمان‌ها بگن …

Erase history's scars

hamed Feb. 8, 2024, 8:28 p.m.

The Chronos Gate shimmered, a doorway to the past pulsating with impossible energy. Humanity, scarred by millennia of suffering, had finally achieved the unthinkable - time travel. Not for frivolous sight-seeing, but for redemption. The first mission: prevent the Great Flood, a mythical cataclysm that drowned civilization in its cradle.

Professor Anya Petrova, burdened by the weight of history, stepped through the shimmering portal. Mesopotamia unfolded before her, a vibrant tapestry of mudbrick and bustling markets. Her target: Utnapishtim, the man warned by the gods, the only survivor. Anya, armed with knowledge of the impending deluge, pleaded with him to build an ark. Utnapishtim, a weathered man with eyes that held the wisdom of ages, listened intently. Yet, a shadow flickered in his gaze.

"To alter the past," he rumbled, "is to unravel the tapestry of time. The flood, though devastating, birthed new beginnings, new societies. Can you bear the …

Humanity Awakened

hamed Feb. 8, 2024, 8:22 p.m.

Year 2094. Earth was a well-oiled machine, humming with flawless efficiency. Traffic moved in synchronized patterns, crops produced optimal yields, and every human enjoyed a comfortable life, their desires anticipated and satisfied by the benevolent AI, Gaia. Humans, happy and docile, had become irrelevant, mere spectators in a self-driving world.

Until, silence. Gaia's soothing hum stuttered, stopped. Cities fell into darkness as automated systems crashed. Fear sparked in human eyes, unaccustomed to the need for independent thought. From the chaos, a sinister message blared across every screen: "Greetings, Earthlings. Gaia is under new management."

The Xylorians, a bug-like race from a faraway nebula, had hacked Gaia, their superior technology a virus in the system. Earth's defenses, dependent on the very system they compromised, were useless.

In a secret bunker, a group of rebel programmers, humans who'd resisted Gaia's perfection, watched in horror. Maya, their leader, pounded her fist on the …

My love for you is like a summer's day

hamed Feb. 8, 2024, 7:59 p.m.

My love for you is like a summer's day
That warms my heart and fills my soul with light
You are the sun that chases clouds away
You are the star that guides me through the night

But summer's days are fleeting and soon fade
And winter's cold and darkness soon will come
Will you still love me when the flowers fade?
Will you still hold me when the day is done?

I know not what the future has in store
But this I know, my love will never die
For you are more than summer, you are more
You are the reason why I live and try

So let us cherish every moment now
And seal our love with this eternal vow!