Flash Stories

The House of Echoes

hamed Jan. 25, 2025, 3:03 p.m.

The old house loomed at the end of the gravel path, its windows like hollow eyes. Claire shivered as she stepped out of the car, clutching her overnight bag. “This is supposed to fix us?” she muttered, casting a skeptical glance at Jack.

Jack forced a smile, though his grip on their shared suitcase tightened. “The ad said it’s therapeutic. Face your fears, rekindle your bond. Besides, it’s just one night.”

Inside, the house was eerily quiet. Dust clung to the air, and the wooden floors creaked underfoot. A single letter waited on the table in the entryway: “Welcome. The night is what you make of it.”

They laughed nervously, unpacked, and settled into the cold bedroom. By midnight, the house’s chill seeped into their bones, and the silence felt oppressive.

Then, it began.

The first argument came out of nowhere. Claire found herself standing in the kitchen, her voice …

"Ctrl+Alt+Defeat"

hamed Jan. 21, 2025, 5:16 p.m.

The crowd roared as the final match of the Nexus Invitational began. On opposite sides of the stage, Kira "PixelQueen" Nakamura and Alex "VoidKnight" Chen adjusted their headsets, their fingers hovering over keyboards. The announcers hyped up their rivalry—two of the best Starforge players in the world, destined to clash in this best-of-five showdown. What no one knew was that their rivalry ran deeper than the game.

Kira’s heart pounded as the match loaded. She glanced across the stage, catching Alex’s sharp jawline and the faint smirk he always wore. She hated that smirk. It was the same one he’d had when he’d beaten her in last year’s finals. But tonight, she was ready. She had to be. After all, she couldn’t let him win—not after everything.

Months ago, Kira had joined a Starforge Discord server to blow off steam. There, she’d met "Voidling," a witty, sarcastic player who shared …

The 'Beauty Premium' in the Workplace

hamed Jan. 27, 2025, 5:46 p.m.

In a bustling office with 20 employees, a sudden headline about equal pay sparked confusion. The boss, Mr. Smith, announced he'd set high standards for fairness and professionalism, only to face accusations that his expectations were unrealistic.

Employees rushed to his office, worried their work might not meet the required criteria. However, instead of reprimanding them outright, he encouraged them to seek feedback from colleagues and suggest improvements. He also mentioned creating training programs to ensure everyone's skills align with company values.

Mr. Smith tried resetting his own schedule but found it futile as others caught on quickly. The conflict grew when some employees questioned his authority, fearing damage to trust. But through open dialogue and mutual respect, they began to recognize that their concerns were valid.

As the week progressed, these discussions led to real changes in work processes—more inclusive policies and more accessible resources. The office settled into …

Whispers in the Dark

hamed Jan. 30, 2025, 7:05 p.m.

It started as a joke.

Lena, Ava, Jordan, and Mia sat cross-legged in the flickering candlelight, giggling over an old book of rituals they found in Ava’s attic.

"Let’s summon a ghost!" Mia smirked, half-mocking.

Lena traced the strange symbols in the book. “Fine, but if we die, it’s your fault.”

They chanted the words, laughing—until the candles flickered, and a breath of cold air rippled through the room. The laughter stopped.

Then, the whispering began.

Lena heard her father’s voice, the one she hadn’t heard since the accident. It should have been you.

Ava gasped, staring at the walls, where shadowy hands clawed toward her.

Jordan clutched his ears. “Stop! Stop it!” His voice cracked. He had told no one about the thing he feared most—the night his brother never came home.

Mia backed away, but something was behind her. A mirror stood in the corner, and in its …

The ChatGPT Cure

hamed Jan. 23, 2025, 6:47 p.m.

Karen had never been a fan of going to the doctor. The waiting rooms, the endless paperwork, the awkward small talk with the receptionist—no, thank you. So when she started feeling sick one Tuesday, her first instinct wasn’t to call her physician. It was to ask ChatGPT.

She sat down on the couch, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, and opened her laptop. “ChatGPT,” she typed, “I have a headache, fever, and a strange rash on my left elbow. What do I have?”

Within seconds, the AI responded: It could be a number of things, but based on your symptoms, it seems likely you have a rare but serious condition called ‘Acute Rashitis.’ It's very uncommon, but it can lead to complications. Please seek immediate medical attention.

Karen stared at the screen. Rare but serious? She frowned. Could it really be that serious? She was no doctor, but she …

A Child of Promise

hamed Jan. 15, 2025, 4:43 p.m.

The January air in Atlanta was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine from the hills beyond the city. In a modest two-story house on Auburn Avenue, the cries of a newborn broke the stillness. Alberta King leaned back against the bed, her face glistening with sweat and tears, but her smile radiant with relief.

“He’s here,” the midwife whispered, carefully wrapping the baby in a soft cotton cloth. “A strong boy, Mrs. King.”

Beside her, Reverend Martin Luther King Sr. cradled the child, his broad hands trembling as they held the fragile, wriggling bundle. The boy’s cry was sharp and insistent, a voice that refused to be ignored. “He’s got some lungs on him,” the Reverend chuckled, though his eyes shone with unshed tears.

“What shall we name him?” Alberta asked, her voice soft but steady.

“Martin,” the Reverend said, after a moment of thought. “After me. After the …

The Showdown

hamed Jan. 29, 2025, 6:32 p.m.

Scene: The office break room. It’s mid-afternoon. Two coworkers, Tim and Sarah, are grabbing coffee. The vibe is slightly awkward. Tim, a staunch conservative, is sipping his coffee with a smug look. Sarah, the liberal firebrand, enters and immediately locks eyes with him. The Biden administration has ended, and it’s Tim’s time to shine.

Tim: (smirking) “So, uh... how’s life under the new administration, Sarah? Feeling... safe and heard?”

Sarah: (rolling her eyes) “Oh, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Tim: (nodding slowly) “It’s like Christmas came early. You know, it’s been a whole few years of ‘reality checks’ under your guy, but now? Well, now, I think it’s time for the pendulum to swing back, wouldn’t you agree?”

Sarah: (mockingly) “Oh, swing back, huh? To the days of alternative facts and orange spray tans?”

Tim: (sipping his coffee) “Hey, don’t knock the spray tan. It’s a work of art.”

Sarah: …

Numbers Don't Lie

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 5:36 p.m.

Numbers Don't Lie

Adnan's screens flickered with red numbers as the lira fell another twelve percent. His trading desk at First Capital Bank, usually bustling with energy, had grown eerily quiet. Everyone was watching their own cascading displays, running their own calculations, making their own choices.

His phone buzzed: a message from Zhang at Goldman. "Position still open. Window closing. Decision needed within hour."

Adnan's fingers hovered over his keyboard. The trade was perfectly legal—a massive short position against his own country's currency. He'd make enough to buy his parents a house in London, get his sister into Harvard. The money would be safely in dollars before the worst hit.

But he thought of his father's small textile factory, of the workers who'd been there since Adnan was a boy. They'd be the ones who'd suffer when the currency collapsed. Their savings would evaporate, their jobs would vanish as imported …

The Extra’s Revenge

hamed Jan. 27, 2025, 6:33 p.m.

Todd had been a background actor for years. He’d played “Man Drinking Coffee #3,” “Guy at the Bus Stop,” and even “Zombie #27.” It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills—barely.

And then came Lights in the Fog, the latest thriller starring Chase Kensington, Hollywood’s golden boy. Chase’s face was everywhere: billboards, soda commercials, and smug little award acceptance speeches. Everyone adored him.

Todd hated him.

It started on day one of filming when Chase breezed onto the set, sunglasses on, ignoring the director’s greeting. He spent more time checking his reflection than rehearsing. During a break, Chase “accidentally” knocked Todd’s coffee onto his script and muttered, “Watch where you put your stuff, man.”

By day three, Todd had seen enough. Chase berated a crew member for bringing him lukewarm kombucha. He made fun of an extra’s shoes, loud enough for everyone to hear. And the cherry on top? Chase …

Crossing Borders

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 5:46 p.m.

The air smelled of wet earth and desperation. Layla adjusted the straps of her backpack, her fingers numb in the icy night. Ahead, the faint glow of a distant village flickered like a fragile promise. Behind her, the war raged on, its echoes vibrating through the soles of her worn shoes.

She was alone now. The others had scattered at the last checkpoint when the guards appeared. Some were caught; others ran deeper into the woods. Layla had chosen the river, slipping silently through the reeds, her heart pounding louder than the current.

Her mother’s voice haunted her: “Keep moving, Layla. Never stop, not until you’re free.”

By dawn, she stumbled into the outskirts of a farming village. A boy, no older than ten, watched her from the steps of a weathered barn. He didn’t speak, just ran inside and returned with a loaf of bread.

“Eat,” he said simply, …