Flash Stories

Zaka dairy producer

zaka Dec. 31, 2023, 6:42 a.m.

Maya loved visiting her grandparents' farm in Dehong village. She loved the fresh air, the green fields, and the friendly cows. She loved helping her grandfather with the milking and the cheese making. She loved hearing stories about how he started his own dairy business in 2003, with just a few cows and a lot of determination. She loved seeing the Zaka logo on the milk cartons and yogurt cups, knowing that it was her family's name and legacy.

But Maya also loved the city, where she lived with her parents and went to school. She loved the hustle and bustle, the diversity, and the opportunities. She loved learning new things, meeting new people, and exploring new places. She loved dreaming about her future, where she could be anything she wanted to be.

Maya was torn between two worlds, two lives, two loves. She wanted to honor her grandparents and …

Voices of the Forgotten

hamed Jan. 15, 2025, 5:36 p.m.

In the small town of Willow Creek, tucked away in the rolling hills of the countryside, the world seemed a faraway place. The local café served the same cup of coffee, the high school football games were still the talk of Friday nights, and people smiled at each other on the streets. But, in the shadows of their quiet existence, something had shifted. The ripples of the global protests against police brutality had reached even this remote corner of the world.

Maya stood on the edge of the town square, watching as people began to gather. There was a nervous energy in the air, a feeling that something momentous was about to happen. She had never been one for public displays, but the images of George Floyd’s death—his final breaths, his cry for help—had haunted her every night. The injustice, the brutality, had pushed her to the breaking point. She …

Writing Love

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 5:33 p.m.

Thomas Blake stared at the blinking cursor on his screen, watching it mock him with each flash. Sixteen bestselling romance novels, and now... nothing. His editor's calls went unanswered, his agent's emails unread. How could he write about love when every story felt like a lie, every scene a recycled cliché?

The coffee shop beneath his apartment became his refuge. Not to write – he'd given up carrying his laptop – but to escape the accusing silence of his study. He ordered the same thing every morning: a large Americano, black, like his mood.

That's where he first saw her, arguing with the barista about the superiority of physical books over e-readers. Her wire-rimmed glasses kept sliding down her nose as she gesticulated, her messenger bag overflowing with worn paperbacks. When she turned to leave, he noticed she was carrying his first novel, its spine cracked from multiple readings.

"That's …

Wired Mind

hamed Jan. 15, 2025, 4:20 p.m.

The procedure took six hours. When Ethan woke, his skull ached like a struck gong. The doctor smiled, holding a sleek tablet. “How do you feel?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he thought: Dim the lights. The room obeyed, bathing itself in a soft, amber glow.

“Your neural interface is working perfectly,” the doctor said, tapping on the tablet. “You’re the first human capable of directly interacting with technology through thought alone.”

Ethan didn’t respond. His mind was already buzzing, testing. He muted the hum of the air conditioner, locked and unlocked the door, and pinged a coffee machine down the hall to brew a fresh cup. The raw power was intoxicating.

Over the following weeks, his fame grew. Corporate executives vied for partnerships, and governments whispered offers behind closed doors. With a glance, Ethan could control drones, bypass firewalls, and even silence someone’s pacemaker.

But what truly unnerved him was …

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 …

They loved each other still

dehongi Jan. 2, 2024, 6:53 p.m.

She had lost everything for him. Her family, her friends, her career, her dreams. She followed him across the world, supporting his ambitions, sharing his joys and sorrows, loving him unconditionally.

She thought they would grow old together, happy and content. She thought they had a bond that nothing could break. She thought she was the luckiest woman alive.

She was right.

He never left her, not even when he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, not even when he was in pain and suffering, not even when he had nothing left to give. He loved her with everything he had, everything he was, everything he could. He gave her his all.

She stayed with him, through thick and thin, through good and bad, through life and death. She cared for him, comforted him, cherished him. She gave him her all.

They spent their days in a small, cozy cottage, …

The Boardroom Mirror

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

“Next on the agenda,” Marcus said, tapping his pen against the glossy table. “The DEI program.”

The room fell silent, save for the hum of the air conditioning. Amelia watched as her colleagues exchanged loaded glances, their expressions a blend of impatience and resistance. She could already hear the undercurrent of what they wouldn’t say out loud: Here we go again.

She cleared her throat. “As you all know, the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiative is designed to address long-standing disparities within our workforce and—”

“Cost us millions,” interrupted Charles, the CFO, his voice dripping with irritation. “Look, Amelia, no one’s saying diversity isn’t important, but these mandatory trainings and hiring quotas are alienating our top performers.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. Amelia’s hand tightened around her coffee cup.

“This isn’t about quotas,” she said, her voice steady but firm. “It’s about creating a workplace where everyone—regardless …

The Last Wish

hamed Jan. 26, 2024, 7:02 p.m.

He had one wish left. He had wasted the first two on trivial things: a new car, a promotion. He regretted them now, as he lay on his deathbed, surrounded by machines and tubes. He wished he had spent more time with his family, his friends, his true love. He wished he had lived a more meaningful life.

He closed his eyes and whispered his final wish to the genie, who had been his faithful companion for the last ten years.

"I wish I could go back in time and do it all over again."

The genie nodded and snapped his fingers.

He opened his eyes and saw a familiar face smiling at him.

"Happy birthday, son. You're 18 today. What are you going to do with your life?"

He smiled back, tears of joy in his eyes.

"Everything!"

Shifting Frontlines

hamed Jan. 14, 2025, 4:33 p.m.

Captain Elena Rojas stood on the edge of the crumbling seawall, her boots coated in salt spray. The Atlantic was rising faster than their projections, swallowing what used to be prime farmland. Behind her, the remains of Hampton Base stretched like a ghost town—abandoned barracks, rusting radar towers, and hastily packed-up equipment.

She flipped through the latest report from Central Command. It wasn’t about enemy missiles or covert operations. It was about freshwater shortages and migration patterns, about destabilized regions where floods and droughts had upended lives and governments alike. The language had changed over the years. “Combat zones” were now “climate corridors,” and “defense strategies” focused on food security and rebuilding infrastructure.

“You ready for this?” came a voice behind her.

It was Sergeant Webb, her second-in-command. He pointed toward a cluster of civilians arriving on foot—a mix of families, young men, and elders carrying their …

Dancer

sara Jan. 18, 2024, 7:36 p.m.

She had always wanted to be a dancer. Ever since she was a girl, she would watch ballet videos and practice in her room. She loved the grace, the beauty, the joy of movement. She applied to the best dance schools, and got accepted to one of them. She was thrilled to pursue her passion.

But then, the pandemic hit. She had to stay at home, away from her friends, her teachers, her studio. She felt like she had lost her purpose. She missed dancing so much. She tried to keep up with online classes, but it was not the same. She felt lonely, bored, depressed.

One day, she decided to do something different. She took her laptop and went to the park, where she found a quiet spot under a tree. She connected to the internet, and joined a virtual dance class. She saw other dancers from around the …