Flash Stories

The Last Heir

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 4:55 p.m.

Sarah Blackwood traced her fingers over the family portraits lining the mahogany-paneled hallway. First went little Tommy, found frozen in the greenhouse despite the summer heat. Then Mother, discovered at the bottom of the stairs with a broken neck – though Sarah couldn't remember those stairs ever creaking before. Father lasted longer, until the hunting accident that everyone called suspicious but couldn't prove otherwise.
At seventeen, she was the last Blackwood standing.
Mr. Peterson, their family lawyer since before her birth, had been a constant presence through each tragedy. He arranged the funerals, managed the estate, and became her legal guardian. His cold efficiency in handling their affairs had been a comfort, until she found the old photograph while cleaning out Mother's dresser.
It showed a younger Peterson at a garden party, his eyes fixed on her mother with an intensity that made Sarah's skin crawl. In every frame, he lurked in the …

The Coffee Shop Mystic

hamed Jan. 19, 2025, 6:40 p.m.

Samir had lived in Silicon Valley long enough to know the routine. Get up, code, debug, deploy, repeat. His life had become a series of neatly ordered lines of code, each day blending into the next. His routine was simple: wake up, grab a latte from the corner coffee shop, and head to the office to face the ever-increasing demands of the tech world.

But lately, there was something about the barista, Kian, that made Samir pause. Kian was always quiet, a man of few words, but his presence had a calmness that seemed to seep into the very air of the shop. His movements were fluid, precise, as if each action was a prayer or meditation. Samir often found himself watching, intrigued by the way Kian would carefully grind the beans, time the pour, and smile at the steam rising from the cup as if he were witnessing something …

Financial Independance Equals Being Wealthy?

dehongi Jan. 11, 2024, 5:24 p.m.

Sarah and David were two friends who grew up in the same neighborhood. Sarah was always ambitious and hardworking, and she eventually became a successful lawyer. David, on the other hand, was more laid-back and preferred to pursue his passions, which included playing music and writing.

Sarah was very proud of her career and her financial success. She had a big house, a fancy car, and all the latest gadgets. However, Sarah was often stressed and unhappy. She worked long hours and was constantly worried about money.

David, on the other hand, was much happier. He didn't have a lot of money, but he didn't need it. He was able to live comfortably on his music and writing income, and he had a lot of free time to pursue his passions.

Sarah and David often talked about their different lives. Sarah often envied David's freedom and happiness, while David often …

The Duchess in Room 12

hamed Jan. 16, 2025, 5:22 p.m.

The hospital buzzed with an energy that hadn’t been felt in years. Fresh flowers lined the front desk, the floors gleamed from an extra polish, and the faint smell of disinfectant mingled with the scent of anticipation.

Kate Middleton’s visit was all anyone could talk about. Staff whispered in the corridors, patients smoothed their hair in their beds, and even the normally stoic Dr. Rees had put on a tie.

In Room 12, Maria adjusted her oxygen tube nervously. The elderly woman had been battling a stubborn case of pneumonia, and while the nurses promised her she didn’t have to say anything, the thought of meeting a duchess made her palms sweat.

Outside, Kate moved through the ward with her signature grace, but up close, she was different. She crouched to speak to a little boy in a wheelchair, her face lit with genuine warmth as he showed her his …

The Curse of Love and Immortality - Chapter 5: Yasmin and the Prince of Winter

dehongi Jan. 16, 2025, 12:11 p.m.

The king’s voice carried a chill that matched the story he was about to tell. The flickering flames in the hearth seemed to dance slower as he began, their warmth struggling against the weight of the tale.
“Tonight,” he said, “we speak of Yasmin, the Pari who gave her heart to a prince cursed by winter—a man whose life was bound to frost and snow, who could never feel the warmth of spring.”
The princess tilted her head. “A curse? Was it magic?”
The king nodded. “It was. The prince, Darian, had once been beloved by the gods of the seasons, but his pride earned him their wrath. He dared to say he needed no one—not even the gods themselves. For his arrogance, he was cursed to live in perpetual winter. Snow followed him wherever he went, and ice bloomed under his touch. No fire could warm him, and no sun could thaw …

Stuck in the Drift

hamed Jan. 15, 2025, 6:17 p.m.

The horizon was a dull line where the Suez Canal met the sky. It was the kind of day that seemed to stretch on forever—no end, no movement. Ahmed stood at the helm of the Ever Given, staring out into the endless expanse of water, his knuckles white on the railing. The ship had been stuck for days now, wedged sideways across the canal, its massive hull blocking one of the busiest trade routes in the world.

It wasn’t the kind of thing you imagined happening when you signed up to work at sea.

"How much longer, do you think?" Farhan, the youngest of the crew, asked from behind him. The boy had a nervous edge to his voice, one that had been growing sharper with each passing hour. His eyes darted across the horizon, as though he could will the ship to move with nothing but sheer will.

Ahmed …

Election Day

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 6:02 p.m.

The line at the polling station stretched far beyond the entrance, a sea of people shifting in place, each clutching their ID like a badge of righteousness. Jenna stood at the back, her fingers tapping nervously on the strap of her bag. Her first election. She had registered in the summer, motivated by the viral campaign slogans and the promises of change. The signs were everywhere—on street corners, in windows, on every social media feed. Today was the day she would finally have a say.

The air was thick with tension, the murmurs of disagreement buzzing like static. Everywhere she looked, people were talking—arguing, debating, cheering for their candidate like their lives depended on it. Jenna had never been so invested in politics, but today felt different. The stakes were higher, they said. Too much at risk to sit this one out.

As she moved forward in line, a voice …

azriel is lost. again..

ziamaiko Jan. 12, 2024, 4:30 p.m.

i feel lost. everyone feels lost at times.
and now i do.
it's feels like.. i don't belong to nothing and nobody.
aky is not like me. he is the bearer of the word of freedom. he belongs to everything and everywhere.
sometimes i get too angry with him. he is very reckless. he always makes the stupidest decisions.
«i don't know if you have ever heard the word "future" or not.»
boundless happiness shines in his eyes. «yea.. zayn always say it.»
i sigh. «you should have goals. like i do. and try hard for them.»
«we can achieve it together.» he says, smiling innocently.
«i can do it myself.»
«but you'll reach your limits. i guess i did.»
«i have no limits.»
he frowns. and it's the first time i see aky like that. but still, he's so harmless. «at the end of the day, we have our friends! and they'll help me if i was tired.» he smiles again. …

The Art of Choosing

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 5:23 p.m.

Sarah's mother always said grace before dinner, even when Sarah stopped bowing her head. Her father always asked about her grades, even when she'd long graduated. Her brother always made the same jokes about her being single, even when they stopped being funny years ago.

That Thursday evening, like every Thursday for the past decade, she sat at Luna's cramped kitchen table instead of her family's formal dining room. Luna handed her a steaming mug of chai, made exactly how Sarah liked it—more cardamom, less sugar.

"Rough day?" Luna asked, noticing Sarah's wrinkled blazer and untamed hair.

"Mom called again. Asked when I'm going to 'settle down' and 'give her grandchildren.'" Sarah wrapped her hands around the warm mug. "Said I'm wasting my life running an art gallery."

"Ah yes, how dare you follow your passion and become successful?" Luna rolled her eyes, pulling out leftover lasagna from her fridge—Sarah's …

The Last Delivery

hamed Jan. 20, 2025, 4:11 p.m.

The warehouse hummed with the sound of drones, their metallic wings buzzing as they zipped off into the sky. Nathan sat at his console, staring at the blinking prompt on the screen: "Begin final manual delivery?"

Tomorrow, the drones would handle it all—no pilots, no human touch. Nathan's job would be gone, replaced by algorithms and efficiency metrics. But today, he still had control.

He scanned the address: 142 Balsam Street. The package was small, light. "Garden seeds," the manifest said.

He activated the drone, taking manual control for the last time. Through his headset, the world shrank to the drone’s camera feed.

Balsam Street was quiet, the kind of street where time seemed to slow. The drone hovered above a modest brick house with a weathered front porch. Nathan lowered it carefully to the doorstep, watching as the delivery notification chimed.

But before he could pull back, the door …