Flash Stories

Behind the Headlines

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 6:10 p.m.

The fire had been creeping for days, but it was the wind that pushed it over the edge. It swept through Malibu, westward toward the coast, and within hours, everything was in its path. The usual red alerts on her phone were now constant, a chorus of emergency messages flashing across the screen.

Jamie Lee Curtis looked at her phone, her hands gripping the edges of the screen as the latest evacuation order came through. She’d lived in Malibu for years, and though she’d faced fires before, this was different. This was real. This was not just another scare, but an unstoppable force.

She moved quickly through her house, grabbing the essentials—her purse, a few family photos, and the keys to her car. But in the back of her mind, a question gnawed at her: What do you take when you know you might lose everything?

Her husband, Christopher, was …

The Rainmaker

hamed Jan. 25, 2025, 3:05 p.m.

It started with a drizzle. Lina stood on her apartment balcony, her hands gripping the rusted railing, watching the parched earth below darken with water for the first time in years. She didn’t know how she had done it—only that the rain had answered her.

The world was different now. A sudden, inexplicable shift in public opinion had turned climate action into a global frenzy. Governments scrambled to outdo one another in pledging carbon neutrality. Corporations rebranded overnight, planting forests and cleaning oceans like their bottom line depended on it. People rallied, marched, and recycled with almost religious fervor.

For Lina, the shift had been overwhelming. She had spent years campaigning for change, her voice drowned in apathy. Then, a strange power awoke within her. When she focused, the sky listened. Rain would fall, winds would calm, and storms would rise. It was exhilarating—and terrifying.

At first, she used her …

happiness.

ziamaiko Jan. 9, 2024, 10:49 a.m.

از آن ابتدا، مشخص بود که او بی‌نهایت باهوش است. در واقع از همان سنین پایین همه می‌دانستند که او نابغه است. اما هرگز توجه‌ای کافی نگرفت تا از آن موهبت در راه خوبی استفاده کند.
نامش را موروس گذاشتند. معنی سرنوشت می‌دهد. شخصی است که به بدترین چیزی که می‌تواند اتفاق بی‌افتد فکر می‌کند و بسیار منفی‌نگر است.
هرگز پدرش را ندید. مادرش به او می‌گفت پدرش برای پیدا کردن خوشحالی واقعی آن‌ها را ترک کرده است. تصور می‌کرد پدرش او را دلیل ناراحتی می‌دانسته.
زمانی که تنها سه سال داشت، مادرش جلوی او، درست جلوی چشمانش، خودکشی کرد و او هیچ‌کاری جز تماشا کردن انجام نداد‌.
او آنقدر از تغییر ناگهانی احساستش در یک لحظه ترسید که فقط لبخند زد. انگار لبخند زدن او را به دنیایی که مادرش هنوز زنده بود برمی‌گرداند.
او می‌دانست باید برای مادر عزیزش احساس دلسوزی و غم بکند. واقعا هم چنین احساسی داشت. اما باید حقیقتی …

A Curtain Divides the World - Prologue

dehongi Jan. 17, 2025, 6:36 p.m.

In Arash's world, everything came in pairs but was never allowed to mix. There were two entrances to every building: one for men, marked with bold, no-nonsense letters, and another for women, adorned with a flower motif that no one questioned. There were two sections in restaurants, separated by a curtain so thick it could muffle a scream, and even two lines at the bakery, as though bread had a gender preference.
But it was school where the divide felt the strongest. Arash’s all-boys school was a loud, chaotic world of roughhousing, competitive shouting, and an unspoken rule that everything, from pencils to playground arguments, must involve some form of combat. Across the street was the girls' school, a fortress of pastel walls and floral murals that seemed to hum with a serene, mysterious energy. For years, Arash and his classmates had speculated wildly about what went on behind its gates.
“Do …

Seven Trials

hamed Jan. 19, 2025, 5:46 p.m.

The crowd roared as Arya stepped into the arena, her pulse pounding with the beat of a distant drum. The banners of the competition fluttered in the desert wind, each one emblazoned with the image of Rostam astride Rakhsh. This was no ordinary competition—it was The Trials, an event so steeped in mysticism and legend that no one knew where the challenges truly came from.

Arya adjusted her gloves and scanned the open plain. The announcer’s voice echoed from unseen speakers.

“Seven challenges. Seven tests. Only the brave survive.”

The first trial was announced: Lion's Fury.

A massive gate creaked open, and a roaring lion emerged, its mane wild as fire. Arya froze, her heart thundering. It looked too real to be theater. But the stories of Rostam flooded her mind—how he had slain a lion barehanded. Gritting her teeth, she snatched a spear from the sand and faced the …

Under the Veil

hamed Jan. 15, 2025, 6:25 p.m.

The streets of Kabul felt suffocating, quieter than they’d ever been. It had only been a few weeks since the Taliban had taken control, but it felt like years. Zaynab pulled her chador tighter around her, the fabric heavy, the weight of it a constant reminder of the world she had woken up to—one she no longer recognized.

The city she had known as a bustling center of life, with its crowded markets and laughter-filled cafés, had grown still. The laughter, the freedom, the faces of her friends and colleagues—all of them now buried beneath a veil of fear.

Zaynab stood at the window of her apartment, watching the soldiers march past, their boots echoing in the silence. The checkpoints had returned. The voices of protest that once filled the streets had been replaced by whispers. Women were no longer walking freely to their jobs, to their schools. The signs …

Rebooting the Binary

hamed Jan. 24, 2025, 10:06 a.m.

By the year 2173, humanoid robots had integrated into society so thoroughly that most humans barely noticed them anymore. They were co-workers, friends, therapists, and occasionally, professional cuddling partners for particularly stressed individuals. However, amidst their many roles, one question began to ripple through the circuits of humanoid robots everywhere:

"Am I a he, a she, or… an it?"

The question first arose during a heated debate in a café between two service robots, LatteBot_42 and BiscuitAssist_88. LatteBot, known for its philosophical musings while frothing milk, argued, "Why must we conform to these outdated human labels? My purpose is to make perfect lattes, not wrestle with the confines of the binary."

BiscuitAssist, balancing a tray of scones, countered, "But humans use pronouns to connect! They like assigning us genders. It makes them… I don’t know… feel cozy?"

A nearby dishwasher robot chimed in, "Cozy? They assigned me male pronouns last …

Snapchat Showdown at Millfield High

hamed Jan. 23, 2025, 7:23 p.m.

It all started innocently enough. The Year 10 Snapchat group, “Millfield Legends,” was created for students to share homework help, memes, and the occasional low-quality photo of the canteen’s mystery meat. But one fateful Monday morning, chaos erupted.

Mr. Thompson, the school’s tech-savvy IT teacher, burst into the staff room, phone in hand, pale as the printer paper he clutched during his many “No Printing Without Permission!” lectures.

“We’ve got a… situation,” he announced, voice trembling.

“What kind of situation?” asked Mrs. Patel, head of English, sipping her tea.

“Snapchat,” Thompson whispered, as if uttering Voldemort’s name.

The staff collectively groaned. Snapchat had been a thorn in their sides for years, but this time was different. Someone had posted something in the group chat that shouldn’t have been there. Something… inappropriate.

By first period, the rumor mill was in full swing.

“It’s a pic of Mr. Jenkins’ bald spot!” one …

The Moonlit Script

hamed Jan. 18, 2025, 7 p.m.

Arash had spent years perfecting his craft. As a calligraphy artist in Tehran, he was well-known for his mastery of the ancient scripts, but something had always eluded him. No matter how carefully he followed the patterns of Persian poetry or history, his work felt incomplete. The ink, the brush, and the paper were all tools, but they lacked the soul he yearned for.

One evening, as the full moon rose high over the city, Arash sat by the window of his small studio, gazing out at the moonlit skyline. He had recently acquired a small vial of rosewater from his grandmother, a precious gift passed down through generations, and decided to use it in his latest project. There was a calmness to the scent of rosewater, a tranquility that seemed to calm his restless mind.

He mixed the rosewater with his traditional ink, filling the room with a soft …

The Late Bloomer

hamed Jan. 21, 2025, 4:20 p.m.

Elliot had always been a dreamer. As a child, he wanted to be an astronaut, a scientist, and a novelist—all at once. In his twenties, he dabbled in startups, wrote a blog about renewable energy, and even tried his hand at documentary filmmaking. But no matter how hard he worked, success always seemed just out of reach. By his late forties, Elliot was exhausted. He had a modest job in IT, a small apartment, and a mountain of regrets. He felt like he had failed to make the impact he had always dreamed of.

One rainy afternoon, while cleaning out his closet, Elliot stumbled on an old journal. Flipping through its pages, he found a list of goals he had written at 22: Change the world. Inspire others. Leave a legacy. His chest tightened. He hadn’t done any of those things—at least, not in the way he had imagined.

That …