Flash Stories

The Algorithm of the Soul

hamed Jan. 18, 2025, 6:43 p.m.

Leila sat at her desk in the quiet hum of the data center, eyes flickering between lines of code and the endless stream of numbers on her screen. As a senior data analyst at a cutting-edge tech company, her job was to sift through vast amounts of raw data, applying pattern recognition software to find meaningful correlations. It was a task she had mastered over the years—seeing hidden connections, threading together information that seemed disjointed to the untrained eye.

But lately, something strange had been happening.

At first, it was just a hint, a faint shape buried deep in the noise of a complex dataset. A familiar symmetry—circles within squares, triangles within circles. At first, she dismissed it. Maybe it was just a glitch, an anomaly in the software. But when it appeared again, and again, in unrelated sets of numbers, she couldn’t ignore it.

One afternoon, while reviewing a …

World Continues Going On

khayam Jan. 25, 2024, 11:30 a.m.

چون عمر به سر رسد چه شیرین و چه تلخ
پیمانه که پر شود چه بغداد و چه بلخ

می نوش که بعد از من و تو ماه بسی
از سلخ به غرّه آید از غرّه به سلخ

When life ends, whether sweet or bitter,
When the cup is full, whether in Baghdad or Balkh.

Drink a lot of wine since after me and you,
The moon repeats the cycle of birth and decay numerously.

Story:

He was a man who had no passion. He wasted his life, from 20 to 40, doing nothing meaningful, nothing fulfilling, nothing rewarding. He had no ambition, no motivation, no purpose.

He spent his days, his nights, his years, doing the same things, over and over. He worked at a boring job, that he hated. He watched TV, that he did not care. He drank beer, that he did not enjoy.

He ignored every opportunity, every chance, every …

Love in the Shadows

hamed Feb. 26, 2025, 5:33 p.m.

In the crowded metropolis of Nova-Serene, public displays of affection were forbidden by law. Every touch, every kiss was surveilled by omnipresent drones and recorded for the state’s strict archives. The decree was clear: love must be private, confined to whispering dark corners and secret rooms.

Ava and Leo had once celebrated their passion openly in another world—a world that no longer existed. Now, in the twilight of a society that prized obedience above all, they met in the narrow alleyways beneath flickering neon signs. Their hearts pounded with both fear and exhilaration as they brushed fingertips and exchanged soft, hurried words.

“We can’t hide forever,” Leo whispered, eyes burning with defiance as he pulled Ava close. His hand caressed her cheek—a touch that risked everything. In that stolen moment, the state’s voice fell silent, as if even the oppressive regime paused to marvel at their tenderness.

A surveillance drone …

Dangerously Cold Wind Chill Challenge

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:16 p.m.

Lenny had never been one to shy away from a challenge. So when he saw the weather forecast that morning—“Wind chill advisory: Dangerous conditions. Stay indoors if possible.”—he saw nothing but opportunity. He pulled out his phone and posted a quick video to his friends:

"Alright, folks, it’s -30°F outside, and I’m going to survive it with nothing but my wits and a little bit of creativity. This is the Dangerously Cold Wind Chill Challenge!"

The first step was obvious: bundle up. But Lenny, being Lenny, decided that regular winter gear was for amateurs. He donned four pairs of socks—three on one foot, because why not? He wrapped his body in every single blanket in his apartment, looking like a very frazzled, very overstuffed burrito. But that wasn’t nearly enough.

He grabbed a space heater and placed it next to him, cranking it up to its highest setting. The room …

The Secret

hamed Jan. 15, 2024, 4:39 p.m.

David felt a surge of panic as he heard Sarah's footsteps approaching the bedroom. He quickly turned off the light and pretended to be asleep, hoping that she would leave him alone.

He knew that she wanted to be intimate with him, to feel his touch, his kiss, his embrace. He knew that she deserved it, that she was a loving and faithful wife, and that he was a lucky man to have her.

But he couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to be intimate with her, or with anyone. He couldn't overcome the fear that gripped his heart, the fear that stemmed from a dark secret, a secret that he had kept hidden for years.

David was a victim of childhood abuse. When he was a young boy, he had suffered at the hands of an older neighbor, who had violated him in unspeakable ways. The memories of …

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. …

Chai-tanic Mishap

hamed Jan. 23, 2025, 7:10 p.m.

Aman "The Snack Guy" Sharma, a mid-tier YouTuber known for his over-the-top food reviews, was live-streaming to his 50,000 subscribers from his tiny Mumbai apartment. Today’s episode: "Rating the Best Chai in Mumbai from Zomato!"

“Alright, folks,” Aman said, adjusting his camera. “I ordered the classic cutting chai from ‘Aunty’s Authentic Chaiwala.’ Let’s see if it lives up to the hype.”

The doorbell rang. Aman grabbed the Zomato bag with dramatic flair, hyping up his audience. “And here it is, my liquid gold! Let’s—”

He paused mid-sentence, pulling out not chai but a plastic container of dal makhani.

The chat exploded:
_‘Bro, chai turned into lunch! 😂’
‘Aunty’s dal makhani review incoming?’

“Wait, what?!” Aman said, holding the container up to the camera. “This is NOT chai. Unless… it’s some revolutionary new chai dal fusion I don’t know about.”

He immediately switched into “angry customer mode” and dialed Zomato support, putting the …

(still not there.)

ziamaiko Dec. 26, 2023, 6:46 p.m.

مسئله‌ای که زیاد ذهنم را مشغول می‌کرد این بود که چرا هیچ‌کس اهمیت نمی‌دهد. برای هیچ‌کس مهم نبود ما مانند زندانی‌ها در این مکان زندگی می‌کنیم؟ از دنیای بیرون، تنها چند کتاب و دست نوشته داشتیم. جز چندین بچه‌ی کوچک، هیچ انسان دیگری آنجا نبود. تمام کودکان هشت سال به بالا بودند. والدینی نداشتند. خاطراتی هم نداشتند. حتی دلیلی برای زندگی هم نداشتند. فقط توسط رباط‌ها برای آینده آماده می‌شدند. کدام آینده؟ هیچ‌کداممان نمی‌دانستیم.
بی‌هوا در حال گشتن در محوطه بودم که پاترونی با سرعت از کنارم گذشت.
پاترون‌ها رباط‌های باهوشی بودند که مارا بزرگ می‌کردند. ما انسان بودیم. از آنها باهوش‌تر بودیم. پس چرا تمام زندگی ما دست آنها بود؟
پاترون را دنبال‌ کردم و در همان حین گفتم :
「به نظرت می‌تونم نویسنده بشم، بیست و هشت؟」
او فقط بی‌هوا از کنارم گذشت.「اوه نه. تو نمی‌تونی برای خودت شغل انتخاب کنی. 'اون‌ها' تصمیم‌گیرنده‌اند.」
'آن‌ها' هرکسی می‌توانستند باشند. کسانی که برای آینده‌ی ما تصمیم می‌گیرند. …

Digital Whirling

hamed Jan. 19, 2025, 6:43 p.m.

Maya had always been driven by the art of immersion. As a VR designer in Silicon Valley, she prided herself on creating worlds that felt alive, that felt real. Her latest project, however, was different. It wasn't just about realism—it was about capturing something sacred.

For months, she had been working on a virtual reality experience that would allow users to step into the center of a whirling dervish ceremony. The idea came to her during a trip to Istanbul, where she had witnessed the mesmerizing dance of the dervishes. The way they spun, their robes flowing like celestial bodies in motion, their faces serene, lost in an inner peace that seemed to defy time and space—it was as if the dance wasn’t just a movement, but a connection to the divine.

"I can do this," she told herself, sitting in her San Francisco studio late one night, surrounded by …

The House That Waited

hamed Jan. 20, 2025, 6:24 p.m.

The sun hung heavy in the sky, casting an orange haze over the fields that used to be green. The air was thick with dust and the smell of burnt earth. A few years ago, they'd laughed at the idea of ever leaving. But the droughts, the heatwaves, the wildfires—they didn’t leave them much choice. Now, Mara and her family were part of the Great Migration, like millions of others, heading toward the northern cities where the climate hadn’t yet devoured everything.

They had left behind their home, the smart house that had once been the pinnacle of convenience. Automated lights, self-regulating temperature, an AI assistant that seemed almost alive. It had been a safe haven during the worst of it—the house that did everything.

But now, it was abandoned.

Or so they thought.

As they settled into their new temporary apartment, Mara unpacked the last of their belongings, her …