Flash Stories

The Last Child

dehongi Jan. 31, 2024, 3:03 p.m.

The Last Child

She was the last child born on Earth. Her parents named her Hope, but they knew it was a futile gesture. The world was overrun by the undead, the living corpses of those who refused to die. They had consumed all the resources, polluted the environment, and waged endless wars. They had no interest in the future, only in preserving their own existence.

Hope grew up in a hidden bunker, surrounded by books, toys, and art. Her parents taught her everything they could, hoping to spark some curiosity and creativity in her. They wanted her to have a normal childhood, even if it was only an illusion.

But Hope was not like other children. She was quiet, withdrawn, and melancholic. She rarely smiled or laughed. She spent most of her time staring at the screens, watching the horrors of the outside world. She saw the undead roaming …

The Code of Healing

hamed Dec. 27, 2024, 7:29 p.m.

Ravi Satyan, a computer engineer from a small village in southern India, stared at the holographic screens floating before him. The lines of code reflected in his glasses were more than algorithms—they were memories, promises, and hope.

When he was eight, cancer took both his parents within months of each other. Back then, the rural clinic lacked doctors, and the closest hospital was hundreds of kilometers away. He had been too young to understand chemotherapy, but old enough to feel helpless as the machines beeped their final farewells.

Decades later, that helplessness had become his fire.

Ravi designed Arogya AI, a revolutionary healthcare system powered by deep learning and predictive analysis. It could detect illnesses like cancer before symptoms even appeared, provide personalized treatment plans, and manage resources to ensure even the most remote areas had access to care.

“Arogya means ‘health’ in Sanskrit,” he’d told the global medical board …

The Great PHP Escape

hamed Jan. 8, 2025, 7:35 p.m.

Once upon a time in the grim, syntax-heavy land of PHP, there lived a developer named Byte. Byte had been slaving away at his keyboard, wrestling with semicolons, dollar signs, and an endless array of echo statements. His life was a repetitive loop of debugging and despair, where every commit was a gamble with the gods of code.

One fateful day, Byte's screen flickered, and from the depths of his computer emerged a vision—a serpentine figure with a knowing smile, draped in the hues of Python's logo. It was Pytho, the mythical serpent of simplicity.

"Byte," the serpent hissed, its voice a soothing melody, "why do you suffer in this land of complexity when you could bask in the elegance of Django and Python?"

Byte, his eyes wide with curiosity, replied, "But Pytho, I've been with PHP for so long. It's all I know!"

Pytho chuckled, "Ah, but have you …

You are the sun that brightens my day

hamed Feb. 8, 2024, 7:58 p.m.

You are the sun that brightens my day
The moon that guides my night
The star that twinkles in my sky
The light that fills my life

You are the air that breathes in my lungs
The water that quenches my thirst
The earth that grounds my feet
The life that flows in my veins

You are the fire that sparks in my heart
The wind that whispers in my ear
The storm that rages in my soul
The passion that burns in my eyes

You are the song that plays in my head
The melody that soothes my mind
The harmony that blends with my voice
The music that moves my spirit

You are the dream that visits my sleep
The vision that inspires my wake
The reality that exceeds my hopes
The love that fills my being!

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!

The Last Game

hamed Jan. 26, 2024, 7:36 p.m.

The Last Game

She had one game left. She had played all the others, and she had mastered them. She had conquered every level, every challenge, every enemy. She had collected every trophy, every achievement, every reward. She had become the best gamer in the world.

She downloaded the last game, the one that everyone was talking about. The one that claimed to be the ultimate gaming experience. The one that promised to change her life.

She installed the game, and launched it. She created her character, and entered the game world. She saw a beautiful landscape, full of wonders and dangers. She heard a voice, welcoming her to the game.

She was ready. She grabbed her controller, and started playing.

She never stopped!

Ashes of Home

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 6:18 p.m.

Lucy Sheriff stood in the doorway of her apartment, the faint hum of the evening air carrying with it the scent of smoke, thick and acrid. She was eight months pregnant, her body swollen and heavy with the life growing inside her, yet in this moment, the weight she felt wasn't just from her child. It was the weight of uncertainty—the terrifying unknown that loomed just outside her door.

The phone call had come hours ago: mandatory evacuation. The fire, still miles away, had moved faster than anyone could have imagined, creeping up the hills like an unstoppable tide. Lucy had grabbed what little she could—her journalistic instincts kicking in, knowing she would need evidence, stories of those caught in the chaos. But even as she packed, she felt the hollow pit of fear in her chest. It wasn’t just her life she was worried about. It was her home, …

The Last Breath of the City

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 6:16 p.m.

The fire had come like a beast, a consuming thing with no remorse. What had once been a city of neatly arranged homes, fragrant gardens, and streets lined with towering oaks was now a nightmare, suspended in the choking smoke of its own demise. The remnants of life—windows, doors, broken bricks—lay in scattered heaps, like the bones of an ancient creature, picked clean by time and flame.

The streets, once vibrant with laughter and the hum of daily life, now whispered only in the language of ash. Ash that fell in slow, soft flakes, like the dust of forgotten things. Houses stood as hollow shells, their frames blackened, roofs caved in or completely burned away. Some had not even left the dignity of rubble; they had been reduced to nothing more than charred earth, swallowed up by the raging inferno that had spared no one.

Amelia walked through it all, …

Love Born from Ashes and Embers

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 6:25 p.m.

The air was thick with smoke and the lingering scent of charred wood. A soft, eerie silence hung over the once-vibrant neighborhood, now reduced to a patchwork of rubble and scattered remnants. The fire had come quickly, devouring everything in its path. But amidst the destruction, there was a quiet resilience, a sense of rebuilding not just homes, but lives.

Lena stood at the edge of what had once been her house. Her fingers brushed the edges of a melted frame, its corners blackened, the photograph inside forever lost. She had come here hoping to find something—a token of the past that could somehow remain untouched by the flames. But everything was gone. Her heart felt heavy, crushed by the weight of what she'd lost: not just the house, but the life she had once known.

But it was then, as she stood among the ruins, that she saw him.

The Curse of Love and Immortality - Prologue

dehongi Jan. 16, 2025, 11:54 a.m.

The Curse of Love and Immortality
Long ago, in the cradle of creation, a race of ethereal beings was woven into existence by the hands of the Divine. These beings were called Paris—immortal, luminous creatures with beauty so profound it could humble even the most virtuous heart. They were human-like in their appearance, but for the slight curve of their pointed ears and the way their presence seemed to brighten even the darkest of spaces.
Paris were gifted immortality, yet burdened with a singular affliction: the capacity to love mortals. The moment a Pari's heart surrendered to a human, she would forsake her eternal life. This was no simple sacrifice; the act of falling in love would tether her to the mortal world, slowly unraveling the threads of her timeless existence.
The greatest tragedy of all, however, lay in their motherhood. Should a Pari give birth to a daughter, the immortality she once …