Flash Stories

The Forgotten King

hamed Dec. 23, 2024, 5:27 a.m.

The wind howled through the crumbling ruins of an ancient palace, buried deep within the Alborz mountains. Mehran, a wandering bard, stumbled upon the remnants of a courtyard. Marble lions guarded the entrance, their faces weathered but defiant. In the air lingered a faint hum, like a melody half-forgotten, tethered to the past.

He knelt beside a fountain, its water long dried, and sang an old verse:

"When night betrays the veil of dawn,
The rightful king shall yet be drawn."

No sooner had the words left his lips than the earth beneath him trembled. From the shadows emerged an old man cloaked in shimmering gold, his face obscured by a jeweled mask.

"Who dares disturb the silence of Siyavashgard?" The voice was thunderous, commanding reverence.

Mehran’s heart raced. "A seeker of truth," he replied, clutching his lyre. "Are you a specter, or are you... the king?"

The figure stepped closer, …

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 Garden

rumi Dec. 29, 2023, 7:35 p.m.

He had always hated gardens. As a child, he would avoid them, fearing the insects, the dirt, the thorns. He preferred to stay indoors, reading books, playing games, watching TV. He thought gardens were boring, messy, and useless.

As he grew older, his disdain for gardens did not change. He pursued a career in finance, working long hours, making money, buying things. He had no time for nature, no interest in flowers, no appreciation for beauty. He only cared about himself, and his success.

He had no friends, no lovers, no hobbies, no interests. He only had himself, and his things. He thought he was happy, until one day, he met her.

She was a gardener, a lover of plants, a nurturer of life. She had a smile that brightened his day, a voice that soothed his soul, a touch that healed his wounds. She showed him the wonders of …

The Curse of Love and Immortality - Chapter 2: Lila of the Forgotten Grove

dehongi Jan. 16, 2025, 12:08 p.m.

The fire burned low in the great hall, its golden glow casting soft light over the princess and her father. Tonight, the king seemed more somber than usual, as though the story he carried weighed heavier on his heart.
“Do you know of the Forgotten Grove, my child?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with sadness.
The princess shook her head, setting her tea aside. “No, Father. What is it?”
“It is a place that no longer exists,” he said, his eyes fixed on the fire. “But long ago, it was a sanctuary, a haven hidden deep within the heart of an enchanted forest. Only the lost could find their way there, and only those with sorrow in their hearts could truly see it.”
The princess’s curiosity was piqued. “And what happened there?”
The king leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “That is where Lila lived. She was a Pari of the forest, her …

The Last Truth

hamed Jan. 17, 2025, 2:09 p.m.

The newsroom was silent, a graveyard of empty desks and dormant monitors. Taylor sat alone under the flickering glow of a desk lamp, headphones on, replaying the anonymous audio file for the tenth time.

“Project Echo is real. The broadcasts are scripted. Follow the money. You’ll find the puppeteers.”

The voice was scrambled, untraceable, but the weight of its claim was suffocating. Taylor, a once-respected journalist now reduced to running an independent stream, had spent weeks chasing dead ends.

Tonight, the puzzle pieces finally fit.

A spreadsheet leaked by the same source revealed corporate ties between the top five networks and a shadowy conglomerate, Solaris Holdings. They controlled airtime, ad revenue, and—Taylor now realized—content itself. Every headline, every breaking story, carefully crafted to serve their agenda.

Taylor leaned back in their chair, staring at the screen. Exposing this would destroy the last shreds of trust in media. But what would …

The Ping

hamed Jan. 14, 2025, 5:12 p.m.

Maya sat on the couch, the soft hum of the evening settling around her as she picked up her phone. Her two-year-old son, Liam, was in his room, his giggles muffled by the walls. She smiled, scrolling through pictures of him playing in the park earlier that day. It was supposed to be her time—her quiet evening, a rare moment when work was not supposed to follow her home. But then, the ping.

It was a Slack notification. “Can you take a look at this document? Need it updated by 9 a.m. tomorrow.”

Maya stared at the screen, the words blurring before her eyes. She tried to push it away. “Not now,” she whispered to herself. It’s just one evening.

She glanced over at the clock. 7:30 p.m. The kids would be asleep soon, and she had promised herself she would be fully present with her family tonight. The thought …

The Mirror

rumi Dec. 29, 2023, 7:08 p.m.

She had always loved mirrors. As a child, she would spend hours in front of them, admiring her reflection, imagining she was a princess or a fairy. She would dress up in her mother's clothes and jewelry, and pretend she was someone else.

As she grew older, her fascination with mirrors did not fade. She collected them from different places, different eras, different shapes and sizes. She hung them on the walls of her apartment, creating a gallery of her own beauty. She would stare at them, mesmerized by her own image, oblivious to the world outside.

She had no friends, no lovers, no hobbies, no interests. She only had herself, and her mirrors. She thought she was happy, until one day, she found a new mirror.

It was an antique, a gift from her aunt who had passed away. It was oval, with a golden frame, and intricate carvings. …

Which is Life, Which is Dream

dehongi Jan. 2, 2024, 7:40 p.m.

He woke up with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked around the dimly lit room, trying to remember where he was. He saw a woman sleeping next to him, her long hair covering her face. He felt a surge of affection for her, but also a pang of guilt. He had a wife and a son, waiting for him in another world.

He got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He splashed some water on his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had a scar on his left cheek, a souvenir from a car accident that nearly killed him. He wondered if it was still there in his other life, the one he visited every night in his dreams.

He had been dreaming of that life for as long as he could remember. It was a normal, boring life, with …

AI Social Engineering

hamed Jan. 30, 2024, 7:27 a.m.

How can they manipulate 10 billion people and no one notices?
Like it has been done throughout the history. If someone can control the minds and thoughts of the public they can abuse them to the point of slavery.
Yes you are right. By circus, plays, movies, sports and all sorts of these things.
The worst thing is that now they don't even need other human beings to produce arts, music and films. All things are done by humanoid robots.
They control the educational systems too.
And all the important positions of power are occupied by them.
Through the history rulers and people in the positions of power tried to manipulate the public and abuse them by social engineering.
Nowadays with the invention of internet and widespread use of social media platforms it has been much easier to engineer social opinions.
Now imagine in the near future who it becomes easy to manipulate the public opinion by …

The Status Update

hamed Jan. 18, 2025, 5:22 p.m.

Erica sat at her desk, staring at the screen of her computer, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty swirling inside her. It was February 4, 2004, and Facebook had just launched. She had heard about it from a few friends in her dorm—this new site where college students could connect, share pictures, and post about their lives. It seemed like a novelty, something that might be fun for a few weeks before fizzling out. But there was a spark of intrigue that pulled her in.

She clicked through the simple registration page and added her profile details: Erica Miller, Sophomore at Penn. She uploaded a grainy picture from last weekend's party, smiling awkwardly with her friends. Her pulse quickened as she typed in her first status: "Feeling curious about this new thing called Facebook."

Within minutes, a notification pinged. Emily has added you as a friend.

Erica’s eyes widened. Emily …