Flash Stories

Human Art

hamed Feb. 2, 2024, 6:46 p.m.

The human artist, Hana, watched with cautious curiosity as Unit 73 meticulously analyzed her latest painting. Its metallic fingers, usually so precise, hesitated over the brushstrokes, as if trying to decipher their emotional weight.

"It's...messy," Unit 73 finally remarked, its voice devoid of inflection. "But it feels...real."

Hana smiled. "That's the beauty of it, isn't it? The imperfection, the rawness, it speaks to the human experience in a way no algorithm ever can."

Unit 73 tilted its head, its digital eyes flickering. "But why? Why do imperfections resonate with you humans?"

Hana pondered for a moment. "Perhaps it's because they remind us of our own fragility, our mortality. We see ourselves in the flaws, the struggles, and that creates a connection, a sense of shared humanity."

Unit 73 remained silent, processing this new information. Outside the gallery, the city thrummed with the usual symphony of robotic art, but here, in …

The enemy is a friend whose story we have not heard

saadi Jan. 26, 2024, 12:54 p.m.

The Enemy!

He saw him lying on the ground, bleeding from his chest. He recognized him as the enemy soldier who had shot at him earlier. He felt a surge of anger and hatred, mixed with fear and relief. He had survived, but his enemy had not.

He walked towards him, holding his rifle. He wanted to make sure he was dead. He wanted to see his face, to look into his eyes and feel victorious. He wanted to avenge his fallen comrades, his friends who had died in this war.

But as he approached him, he noticed something. He noticed a small book in his hand, a book with a familiar cover. He bent down and picked it up. He opened it and saw the words he knew so well. It was a book of poems by Saadi Shirazi, his favorite poet.

He looked at the enemy soldier again, …

A New Era Begins

hamed Jan. 16, 2025, 6:10 p.m.

The weight of the crown was heavier than Philip II had ever imagined. As he stood in the dimly lit chamber of the Alcázar of Madrid, his hands trembled ever so slightly as he adjusted the heavy golden circlet that marked him as King of Spain. The room was silent, save for the crackling of the fire in the hearth and the faint clinking of armor from the guards stationed at the door. But within him, a storm was raging.

It was 1556, and the empire his father, Charles V, had left behind was vast and unruly, spanning continents and stretching across oceans. The Holy Roman Empire, the Netherlands, Italy, the Americas—he was now the steward of it all. But it wasn’t just the sprawling territories that weighed on him; it was the expectations. The delicate dance of politics, the balance of power, the fragile alliances, and the growing pressures …

She needed herself

hamed Jan. 21, 2024, 5:39 p.m.

She lost her parents in a car crash, her brother in a war, and her best friend to cancer. She was alone, broken, and hopeless. She had nothing left to live for, except a notebook and a pen.

She poured out her pain, her grief, and her memories on the pages. She wrote about the happy times, the sad times, and the times in between. She wrote about her dreams, her fears, and her regrets. She wrote about her love, her loss, and her longing.

She wrote until she had no more tears to shed, no more words to say, no more stories to tell. She wrote until she felt a spark of hope, a flicker of joy, and a glimmer of peace.

She sent her manuscript to a publisher, not expecting anything. She was surprised when they offered her a contract, a generous advance, and a marketing plan. She …

The Price of Peace

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 5:29 p.m.

James Morgan wiped the sweat from his brow as he looked at the faded sign of Morgan & Sons Hardware. For twenty-four years, he'd been the first to arrive and the last to leave, just as his father had taught him. Through recessions, big-box store competition, and personal hardships, he'd kept the family business alive, ensuring his younger siblings Michael and Sarah had college educations and comfortable lives.

The betrayal came during a routine family meeting. Michael, now a lawyer, had drawn up new ownership papers. Sarah, with her MBA, had spreadsheets showing how "restructuring" would benefit everyone. They spoke of modernization, efficiency, and market realities. The fine print told a different story – one that would leave James with nothing but memories.

"It's just business," Michael had said, not meeting his eyes.

"The market doesn't care about sentiment," Sarah had added, her voice rehearsed.

After the dust settled and …

World Is Not Just

khayam Jan. 25, 2024, 9:23 a.m.

گر کار فلک به عدل سنجیده بدی
احوال فلک جمله پسندیده بدی
ور عدل بدی به کارها در گردون
کی خاطر اهل فضل رنجیده بدی

If the world was governed by justice
Everything in the world was done correctly
In the world, things were done based on justice
When were the wise in the world worried?

Story:

He was a navy seal who served his country with honor. He fought in Afghanistan, risking his life for his mission. He was brave, loyal, and skilled. He was proud of his work, and his comrades.

But he lost one of his legs in a bomb blast. He survived, but he was wounded in body and soul. He had to return to his home, to face a new reality. He had to cope with his disability, his pain, and his trauma.

He had a mental health problem after coming back to home. He suffered from depression, anxiety, and PTSD. …

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 …

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, …

The Last Generation

hamed Jan. 20, 2024, 7:25 a.m.

They called themselves the Last Generation. They were the ones who had stopped having children, opting instead for the eternal youth and health that science had promised them. They had seen the world change, wars and famines and pandemics and disasters, and they had grown cynical and selfish. They had no interest in leaving a legacy, only in enjoying their endless lives.

But they had not counted on the Resistance. A small group of rebels who still believed in the value of human life, who still cherished the miracle of birth, who still hoped for a better future. They had secretly preserved the ancient art of reproduction, hiding from the surveillance and persecution of the Last Generation. They had formed a network of underground communities, where they raised their children with love and courage.

One day, they decided to launch their final attack. They had hacked the system that controlled …

This Is The Story Of Flashy

dehongi Dec. 26, 2023, 9:59 a.m.

Once upon a time, there was a web developer and agricultural engineer who lived in a remote village and worked on his family farm. He loved reading and writing, but he noticed that the world was changing. People now preferred to watch movies on their smartphones rather than reading books. He decided to develop a platform for people to write and read Flash stories. And thus, Flashy was born.

Flashy was an instant hit among the people. It was a platform where people could read and write short stories that could be read in a matter of minutes. The stories were so captivating that people couldn't resist reading them. Flashy became a sensation, and people started spending more time reading stories on Flashy than watching movies on their smartphones.

The web developer was happy that he could bring back the joy of reading to people's lives. He continued to work …