Flash Stories

A Curtain Divides the World - Chapter 10: "Breaking the Divide"

dehongi Jan. 17, 2025, 6:46 p.m.

As Arash stood at the threshold of his room, he couldn’t help but smile. The walls of his home—no longer just a house, but now a place of change—felt different. There was an energy in the air, a small but noticeable shift that he couldn’t quite put into words. But it was there, lingering, like the faintest trace of something new on the horizon.
The night before, the conversation with his parents had been a victory. They weren’t completely on board with every radical change he suggested, but they were open. They had seen enough to understand that the world they had built around him was perhaps a little too narrow. Too protective. Too… segregated. And, more importantly, they saw that Arash wasn’t going to let it stay that way. He wasn’t alone anymore in his questioning. His entire school, his community, was slowly starting to wake up to the fact …

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 …

Mirror Maker's Daughter

hamed Jan. 19, 2025, 6:36 p.m.

In the quiet town of Kota Bharu, beneath the shade of ancient trees and the hum of the marketplace, lived a craftswoman named Amirah. She was known for her skill in creating mirrors—silvered glass set in ornate wooden frames—but these were no ordinary mirrors. They held a secret, passed down through generations of women in her family, a secret that Amirah was only beginning to understand.

Her grandmother, an old woman with silver hair and eyes that seemed to hold a thousand stories, had taught her the craft when she was young. “A mirror,” her grandmother would say, “is not just a reflection. It holds memories, and in the right hands, it can bring them back.”

As a child, Amirah thought her grandmother's words were nothing more than a metaphor for the delicate art of mirror-making. But on the night of her twenty-first birthday, something changed. A visitor arrived in …

The Weight of Choices

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 6:15 p.m.

Lena stood in the bustling airport terminal, the hum of departing flights a backdrop to her hurried thoughts. She had just returned from a business trip, her mind tangled with deadlines and unanswered emails. Grabbing her suitcase from the baggage claim, she didn’t think twice. It was black, like hers, the same size, the same worn handle from years of travel. She hoisted it onto the trolley and headed to the exit.

It wasn’t until she arrived at home, the evening sun casting long shadows over her apartment, that she realized the mistake. The suitcase wasn’t hers. Her stomach tightened. The zipper, usually stiff, was looser on this one, the fabric slightly worn in places. She opened it, expecting clothes, maybe toiletries. Instead, she found something far more disconcerting.

The first thing that caught her eye was a framed photograph, slightly smudged from travel. A young couple, arms around each …

The Miracle of 3:42 AM

hamed Jan. 16, 2025, 5:03 p.m.

Nadia stared at the beeping monitor in the ER, her hand trembling against her abdomen. "Pregnant?" she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of disbelief. "That’s impossible. I’m… I can’t…"

The doctor adjusted his glasses, his expression softening. "I understand this is a shock. But you’re in labor, Ms. Farah. We need to move quickly."

Her mind spun. For years, she had tried. The clinics, the tears, the endless tests all pointed to one unyielding conclusion: infertility. She had mourned the children she would never have, buried that dream deep inside her. And now, after all this time, here she was, caught in a whirlwind of chaos and pain, about to meet a child she never knew existed.

"How did I not know?" she gasped, gripping the side of the gurney as another contraction rippled through her body. The nurse, a kind-faced woman, squeezed her shoulder. "Sometimes, life keeps …

The House on the Hill

sara Jan. 27, 2024, 8:59 a.m.

Mark and Lisa were a young couple who loved adventure. They liked to explore new places and seek thrills. They heard about a house on the hill that was rumored to be haunted. They decided to check it out.

They drove to the hill and parked their car. They saw the house looming over them. It was a large, old, and dilapidated mansion. It had broken windows, peeling paint, and overgrown weeds. It looked eerie and ominous.

They grabbed their flashlights and backpacks and walked towards the house. They felt a chill in the air and a sense of dread. They ignored their feelings and entered the house.

They found themselves in a dark and dusty hallway. They saw cobwebs, rats, and roaches. They smelled mold, decay, and death. They heard creaks, moans, and whispers. They felt uneasy and scared.

They decided to split up and explore the house. Mark …

Echo Chamber

hamed Jan. 19, 2025, 7 p.m.

Leila’s podcast had a loyal following. Mindful Moments, with its soothing tone and calming affirmations, had gained a cult status in the world of digital wellness. She talked about breathing exercises, the power of presence, the importance of gratitude. Every episode was designed to make her listeners feel at peace, as though the chaos of the world outside could be tamed if only they listened closely enough.

But lately, she’d begun to wonder if her content was truly making a difference. The messages of calm, while appreciated by her audience, felt like they were floating on the surface, untouched by the depth she longed for. The irony wasn't lost on her—she was surrounded by people seeking mindfulness, but she felt increasingly disconnected, as though her words were mere echoes in a chamber that never stopped reverberating.

One evening, after an episode on finding stillness in a noisy world, Leila met …

Zara

dehongi Dec. 29, 2023, 8:04 p.m.

There was once a young boy named Leo who loved to read books about dragons. He dreamed of meeting a real dragon and becoming its friend. He often imagined flying on a dragon's back and exploring the world.

One day, he found a mysterious book in his grandfather's attic. It was titled "The Dragon's Eye" and had a picture of a dragon on the cover. Leo opened the book and saw that it was full of strange symbols and drawings. He felt a strange attraction to the book and decided to take it to his room.

He tried to decipher the book, but it was too hard for him. He wished he could understand what it said. He looked at the picture of the dragon and said, "I wish you were real. I wish you could talk to me."

To his surprise, the dragon's eye on the cover blinked and …

The Skinny Jeans Rebellion

hamed Jan. 15, 2025, 4:29 p.m.

Emma didn’t even know the attic had a trunk until she stumbled over it, coughing through the dust. She was helping her parents clear out the old house, the one where she’d spent her angsty teenage years.

The trunk creaked open, revealing a kaleidoscope of the early 2000s: studded belts, band tees, and there, crumpled at the bottom—the skinny jeans.

Faded black, ripped at the knees, and still carrying the faint scent of some long-discontinued perfume. She held them up, smiling at how impossibly small they looked.

“Wow,” she whispered. “I used to live in these.”

Back then, those jeans had been everything—her armor against the world. She’d worn them to her first concert, where the bass had vibrated through her chest like a heartbeat. She’d worn them to the rooftop party where she’d kissed Jamie, the artsy kid who painted galaxies on their sneakers. And she’d worn them the …

Anansi and the Web of Wi-Fi

hamed Jan. 20, 2025, 7:08 p.m.

In the bustling city of Lagos, where skyscrapers rose like anthills and smartphone screens glowed brighter than fireflies, Anansi found himself woefully out of place. The Sky God had summoned him with a clear demand: the world had changed, and so must the stories. “The web has grown,” Nyame said, his booming voice shaking the clouds. “Gather tales from this ‘internet’ the humans adore.”

Anansi clicked his many legs nervously. In the old days, all it took was a clever trick or two to weave tales from kings and villagers. But now? Humans lived inside glowing rectangles, their laughter and rage compressed into fleeting videos and memes.

Still, Anansi was not one to shy from a challenge.

He skittered into an internet café, transforming into a lanky young man with braided hair and a sly grin. He bought an hour of Wi-Fi and dove headfirst into the endless ocean of …