Flash Stories

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 …

The First Step

hamed Jan. 16, 2025, 5:29 p.m.

It was quiet in the barracks, the hum of the ceiling fan barely cutting through the thick Gulf air. Amir sat on his bunk, fingers tracing the edge of his rifle. The weight of it in his hands felt unnatural, as if the metal and wood were meant for someone else. Someone more prepared, someone older. But here he was, just nineteen, still wearing the smell of his mother’s cooking in his uniform, still haunted by the taste of the salt in the Persian Gulf breeze as he had arrived. Now, all he could taste was the tension.

The year was 1991, and war was no longer a distant echo. It was real. It was waiting, just over the horizon. The Persian Gulf War. He had heard the name in passing, in the streets of Tehran, in the newsrooms of his hometown. But now it was his name being called, …

The Rescue

hamed Jan. 8, 2025, 11:07 a.m.

We were on a ferry crossing the bay, a group of executives heading to a team-building retreat. The waves were choppy, the wind sharp and biting. As we huddled on the deck, a smaller boat trailing behind us suddenly capsized. Two men—passengers from the smaller boat—were flailing in the water, their cries barely audible over the roar of the waves.

Panic spread among the passengers. One of the executives, Mr. Rahimi, turned to the deckhand and shouted, “Save them both! I’ll pay you ten million tomans for each life you save!”

The deckhand hesitated for only a moment before diving into the freezing water. We all watched breathlessly as he reached one man, pulling him to safety. By the time he went back for the second, it was too late—the other man had disappeared beneath the surface.

As the rescued man gasped for air on the deck, I turned to …

The Shop of Bottled Dreams

hamed Jan. 18, 2025, 6:58 p.m.

Raha had wandered through the labyrinthine lanes of the Tehran Grand Bazaar countless times, her feet brushing against the worn stones, her eyes absorbing the colors, sounds, and smells of a world older than her own. But today, as the sun dipped low, casting long shadows between the stalls, she noticed something strange—a small, unmarked door tucked in the farthest corner of the bazaar, hidden behind a tapestry of velvet fabrics and embroidered scarves. She hadn’t seen it before, though she’d passed this way hundreds of times.

Curiosity tugged at her, and she stepped closer, drawn to the soft golden light spilling out from beneath the door. With a hesitant breath, she pushed it open.

Inside was a small, quiet room, filled with the scent of jasmine and honey. On shelves, delicate glass bottles shimmered, each one holding a swirling mist of colors that seemed to shift and dance in …

The Curse of Love and Immortality - Chapter 9: The Sorrows of Mahin

dehongi Jan. 16, 2025, 12:15 p.m.

The princess’s gaze was steady as the king began the tale, her mind already grasping the thread of sorrow woven into the words that followed. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on the walls, echoing the gravity of the king’s voice.
“This is the tale of Mahin, a Pari whose love was bound to a prince whose heart was torn by war,” the king began, his voice heavy with the weight of the story. “Mahin’s beauty was unmatched, her hair a dark cascade of night, and her eyes as bright as the first stars that appeared in the twilight sky. Yet, it was not her beauty that set her apart, but her compassion for the world’s suffering.”
The princess sat forward, her brow furrowed. "What do you mean, Father? What suffering did Mahin see?"
The king looked at her, his gaze full of sorrow. "Mahin’s life was one of peace and quiet joy, until …

The Line in the Sand

hamed Jan. 17, 2025, 1:54 p.m.

The rain soaked Mateo’s jacket as he held his wife Rosa’s hand, their two children huddled close between them. Outside the immigration office, a crowd of protesters shouted into the night, their signs bobbing like storm-tossed buoys: “Families Belong Together.” “No Human is Illegal.”

Behind the glass doors, Councilwoman Evelyn Grant stood watching. She didn’t belong here, not tonight, but something had pulled her from her townhouse and into the chaos. Perhaps it was the image of the Díaz family on her desk—the photo clipped to their immigration file, now stamped with the red letters FINAL ORDER.

Her aide had warned her. “Stay out of it. You’re running for re-election. You can’t take this fight.”

But here she was, drenched in guilt and indecision.

Evelyn recognized Mateo immediately, his weathered face exactly as it looked in the photo. He met her gaze through the glass, his eyes filled with something …

A Curtain Divides the World - Chapter 2: "The Forbidden Question"

dehongi Jan. 17, 2025, 6:39 p.m.

It was a quiet evening at home. Arash sat cross-legged on the living room carpet, building an elaborate fort out of dominoes while his father flipped through the newspaper. His mother was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared dinner, and his older brother, Saeed, was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone with the expression of someone enduring great boredom.
The quiet was broken when Arash’s younger cousin, Mina, ran past the room, giggling as her mother called after her. Mina had been visiting for a few days, and her presence had been a peculiar phenomenon in the house. Though she was only six years old, she belonged to the "other side," the mysterious world of girls, and her occasional intrusion into Arash’s boy-dominated universe always caused a ripple of awkwardness.
As Mina dashed by, Arash found himself pondering a question that had been bubbling in his mind for …

something to fight for. someone to live for.

ziamaiko Feb. 10, 2024, 9:33 a.m.

ما تنهایی می‌رقصیم. فقط تنهایی یک پسر، مرد می‌شود. از فقدان‌هایش عبور می‌کند و آن‌ها را ناچیز می‌شمارد.
اگر فقط مردم نگاه‌شان را از زندگی مردم برمی‌داشتند، آن‌گاه همه چیز آسان‌تر می‌شد.
کسی که عروج می‌کند انسان است. کسی که سقوط می‌کند نیز انسان است!
«تو، معذرت‌خواهی کن.»
در برابر تمام گناهان و کارهای اشتباهی که انجام داده بود، معذرت‌خواهی زیاد از حد ناچیز بود.
«جور دیگه مجازاتم کنید.»
فکر می‌کرد یک‌نوع حقارت است که بخواهد از دشمنش معذرت بخواهد.
«شخصی که جرات معذرت‌‌خواهی نداره، حق اشتباه کردن هم نداره. این چیزیه که باید یاد بگیری.»
گاهی اوقات لجاجت چیزی جز حقارت نبود.
پا فشاری بر چیزی که از هر طرف اشتباه است بی‌نهایت احمقانه است. آدم‌های لجباز از دیدگاه من، قوی و محکم نیستند. در صورتی که بر چیز نادرستی لجبازی می‌کنند، فقط احمق‌های حقیر هستند.
«توجه کن، تو نمی‌تونی همه رو نجات بدی.»
«اینکه می‌تونم یا نه رو وقتی می‌فهمیم که تلاشم رو بکنم. حتی اگه آسمان‌ها بگن …

The Quiet Room

hamed Jan. 15, 2025, 4:49 p.m.

The apartment was quieter than it had ever been. Lila sat in the corner of the living room, her laptop open in front of her, but she couldn’t focus on the Zoom call. Her mind wandered as her 10-year-old son, Tommy, bounced a ball against the wall for the hundredth time today. Her husband, Ryan, was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, talking on the phone with someone at work about the latest developments. The entire world seemed to be on fire, and their small apartment had become a little island, still and full of tension.

"Can you stop?" Lila called to Tommy, her voice tight with exhaustion. She hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in weeks. Every day felt like it blended into the next, the line between work and home long erased.

Tommy stopped the ball and sat down on the couch, but his restless energy was …

Zero to One

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 5:38 p.m.

"They're offering two billion," Maya said, sliding the tablet across the conference table. "For exclusive rights to the empathy algorithm."

Raj, their founder and CEO, didn't even look at the numbers. He kept staring at their prototype's latest results: an AI that could detect human emotional distress with unprecedented accuracy. Perfect for mental health support—or for manipulating consumers, depending on who controlled it.

"Atlas Corp already has three ethics violations pending," Sarah, their lead developer, pointed out. Her coffee had gone cold hours ago, like most nights lately. "But they're the only ones with the infrastructure to scale this."

The office window offered a view of San Francisco's AI District, where new startups sprouted daily between the towering headquarters of tech giants. Six months ago, Empathica had been just four people in a garage. Now they were sitting on what everyone called "the holy grail of emotional AI."

Raj's phone …