Flash Stories

Hate And Love Are Too Close

sara Jan. 15, 2024, 6:47 p.m.

A few days ago, Sarah could not bear to be separated from him, his every word, every touch, igniting a flame of passion within her. His absence was a void, a gaping chasm in her existence. She thought she couldn't live without him, that her heart would shatter into a million pieces if he ever left.

But now, the memory of that incandescent love turned to a bitter, corrosive disgust. The flame that once burned so brightly had been extinguished, replaced by a cold, relentless hatred. She loathed him with every fiber of her being, every breath she took a testament to the poison he had injected into her soul.

How could she have been so blind? How could she have mistaken this nauseating feeling for love? The realization was a slap in the face, a harsh awakening from a delusional dream. The man she had so desperately adored was …

infinity.

ziamaiko Dec. 27, 2023, 9:29 a.m.

زیباترین آدم‌هایی که تا کنون شناخته بودم، آنهایی بودند که شکست خورده بودند. رنج می‌کردند. دچار فقدان بودند و با این‌حال راه خود را از اعماق درد و رنج گشودند و بیرون آمدند.
این افراد، یک حسی از قدردانی، حساسیت و فهم زندگی داشتند که آن‌ها را پر از شفقت، ملایمت و توجه عمیق و عاشقانه می‌کرد.
زیبایی این افراد، اتفاقی و بی‌سبب نبود.
و حال هرچقدر هم که او تلاش می‌کرد نشان دهد هیچ‌کدام از سختی‌هایی که کشیده برایش چیزی نبوده و قوی‌تر از این حرف‌هاست، اون گذر کرده. او مشقت‌ها را گذرانده و من با تمام وجود عارفانه و عاشقانه می‌پرستمش.
یعنی عشقی عارفانه.
«وقتی برای اولین‌بار تونستی روی پاهات راه بری رو یادت می‌آد؟ نه نمی‌آد. اما لوفی خوب یادشه. چون اون عشق بود. هر طرف ما پر از عشقه و ما بازم عین احمقا توی کوچه و خیابون دنبالش می‌گردیم. بعضی‌ وقتاهم، عشق یعنی رها کردن، آیکو. می‌دونم خنده‌داره اما …

The Unexpected Guest

rumi Jan. 12, 2024, 6:53 p.m.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
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The Unexpected Guest

She was about to close the door when she saw him. A man in a tattered coat, holding a suitcase and a guitar. He had a beard that covered most of his face, and his eyes were weary and sad.

"Excuse me, miss," he said in a low voice. "I'm looking for a place to stay for the night. Do you …

Spy

bastaki Jan. 16, 2024, 3:46 p.m.

The deadline was approaching fast, and Ali was still struggling with the code. He had been hired by Bastaki Software Solutions, a company that provided services for software development and information technology, to create a website for a new client. The website was supposed to showcase the client's products, attract customers, and generate sales. It was a big project, and Ali had been working on it for weeks.

But something was wrong. The code was not working as expected, and Ali could not figure out why. He had checked and rechecked every line, every function, every variable, but nothing seemed to fix the problem. He was running out of time, and he was starting to panic.

He decided to call his supervisor, Sara, and ask for help. He dialed her number and waited for her to answer.

"Hello, this is Sara from Bastaki Software Solutions. How can I help you?"

The Unseen Caretaker

hamed Oct. 6, 2024, 8:28 a.m.

Thomas had always been the rock for everyone he loved. He carried their burdens as if they were his own. His aging mother’s hospital visits, his sister’s endless crises, and his best friend’s recurring need for money—all of it rested on his shoulders. And he bore it willingly, believing that love meant sacrifice.

He thought if he gave enough, if he was always there, surely they would love him back. He never spoke of his own struggles, his quiet pain, the hollow loneliness that clawed at him late at night. He didn't want to be a burden. His happiness could wait. There was always someone more important, someone who needed him first.

The years passed, and Thomas became a shadow of himself. His face, once bright with kindness, now wore the lines of exhaustion. One by one, those he cared for drifted away. His mother passed, his sister moved across …

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 …

The Obedient Donkey

hamed Oct. 30, 2024, 1 p.m.

The old farmer set out with a spring in his step, dressed in his best clothes, determined to break from his daily grind and visit his friend in the neighboring village. His donkey waited patiently, as it did every morning, with its head bowed and hooves planted on the familiar dirt path.

After climbing onto the donkey, he felt the gentle rocking motion of its steps and drifted off, lulled by the morning sun and the rhythm of the ride. His thoughts wandered to the good stories and laughter he’d share with his friend, a world away from the endless tending of crops and weeding.

But the donkey, bound by routine, walked the path it had learned by heart. Every day it trotted faithfully to the orchard, carrying the farmer without fail. Today was no exception.

Hours later, the old man stirred awake! His friend’s home was nowhere in sight. …

He Was Gone

hamed Sept. 12, 2024, 4:53 p.m.

One day, I sat at a bus station, feeling the weight of depression. An old man beside me seemed to sense it.

"What’s troubling you?" he asked gently.

"I see no meaning in life," I replied. "Not here, nor in any other life, if such a thing exists."

He chuckled softly. "Let me share a story," he said. "Perhaps you'll find meaning in this life—and maybe even in the next."

I nodded, and he began.

"I once lived on a twin-planet system. Both worlds were packed with billions of us. Every few days, they sent millions off on missions to escape the overcrowding. But only a few, after countless attempts, ever made it to the capsule in orbit. Most perished. I was one of the rare ones. After many failed attempts, I finally reached the capsule and embarked on a solitary nine-month journey through space. Alone, confined, unsure of what …

They Survive, But You May Die

hamed Nov. 2, 2024, 6:05 p.m.

The sun rose slowly over the peaks of the Zagros mountains, casting a golden glow on the tents pitched at the foot of Dena mountain. The Ghashghayi tribe gathered around, their colorful attire blending with the rich landscape, woven with the sounds of singing and laughter. Today was the wedding day of Arash and Arman, twin brothers who, years ago, had defied death itself, and now stood side by side, waiting to meet their brides—two radiant girls from the tribe, each as fierce and free as the horses they loved to ride.

The memories of that long-ago night still lingered with their mother, Afsar, who now watched her sons with pride, her face lined with the strength and determination that had defied fate itself. She recalled how, in their infancy, her babies had been given no chance of survival by the village doctor. Yet her love for them had been …

The Forgotten Club | Part One

hamed Jan. 30, 2025, 7:16 p.m.

Olivia had always loved mysteries. From reading detective novels to solving petty neighborhood disputes, she’d done it all. But when she found the dusty old box in the back of the school’s library, she discovered something far more exciting than anything she’d read in a book.

It was a collection of faded papers, yellowing membership forms, and an old sign-up sheet with a name she didn’t recognize: The Mystery Solvers Club.

"Seriously?" Olivia whispered, scanning the handwritten notes on the dusty pages. “This thing existed back in the '80s? Why did no one tell me about this?"

Her fingers traced the letters, and she found a list of cases—unsolved mysteries that the club had tried to crack, like the vanishing trophies from the school’s sports hall, the strange noise heard in the basement at night, and the case of the disappearing mascot costume.

With a grin spreading across her face, …