Flash Stories

The Baby Debate

hamed Jan. 29, 2025, 6:24 p.m.

Zoey Harper was not pregnant. She wasn’t even remotely close to being pregnant. Yet, here she was, staring at her phone as the latest headline flashed across her screen: “Zoey Harper and Liam McAllister Expecting! A New Star is Born?”

Her fingers hovered over the screen, then she hit send on the text to Liam. “Seriously? A baby? Did I miss something?”

The reply was immediate: “I’m just as confused as you are.”

Zoey put her phone down, rubbing her temples. She had been at a photoshoot the day before, wearing a loose dress because it was hot as a sauna, and apparently, that was enough for the gossip mill to start churning. She couldn’t even post a picture of her lunch without it turning into “a subtle announcement about baby food.”

Her publicist, Grace, called just as she was about to finish a very sarcastic tweet. “Zoey, darling, we …

Whispers in the Dark

hamed Jan. 30, 2025, 7:05 p.m.

It started as a joke.

Lena, Ava, Jordan, and Mia sat cross-legged in the flickering candlelight, giggling over an old book of rituals they found in Ava’s attic.

"Let’s summon a ghost!" Mia smirked, half-mocking.

Lena traced the strange symbols in the book. “Fine, but if we die, it’s your fault.”

They chanted the words, laughing—until the candles flickered, and a breath of cold air rippled through the room. The laughter stopped.

Then, the whispering began.

Lena heard her father’s voice, the one she hadn’t heard since the accident. It should have been you.

Ava gasped, staring at the walls, where shadowy hands clawed toward her.

Jordan clutched his ears. “Stop! Stop it!” His voice cracked. He had told no one about the thing he feared most—the night his brother never came home.

Mia backed away, but something was behind her. A mirror stood in the corner, and in its …

The mortal world is not worth worrying about

khayam Feb. 1, 2024, 8:25 a.m.

ای دوست بیا تا غم فردا نخوریم
وین یکدم عمر را غنیمت شمریم

فردا که ازین دیر فنا در گذریم
با هفت هزار سالگان سر بسریم

O friend, come so we don't worry about tomorrow
And let's take advantage of this once in a lifetime

Tomorrow we will pass this mortal world
We are equal to seven thousand old years people

Story:

He was a philosopher, and he loved wisdom. He loved to think, to question, to learn. He believed that wisdom was the essence of life, the way to understand the world, the way to transcend it.

She was a poet, and she loved beauty. She loved to write, to rhyme, to sing. She believed that beauty was the essence of life, the way to appreciate the world, the way to enjoy it.

They met at a tavern, drinking the same wine. He was searching for the meaning of life, she was celebrating …

The Carpet of Whispers

hamed Jan. 18, 2025, 6:46 p.m.

Lila had always admired the faded beauty of her grandmother’s antique carpet, a sprawling Persian masterpiece that covered the floor of the living room like a forgotten treasure. She had never thought much of it beyond its intricate patterns and the warmth it brought to the otherwise sterile space. But when her grandmother passed, leaving the carpet to her, Lila couldn’t help but feel a strange pull toward it.

The first night she brought the carpet home, the atmosphere in her apartment felt different—heavier somehow, as if something ancient and hidden was watching from the corners of the room. Lila chalked it up to the change in scenery, adjusting to her grandmother’s heirloom and the weight of loss.

But then, the notifications started.

It began innocuously. A simple ping on her phone as she sat at her desk, typing lines of code for a new app she was developing. She …

The Silence of Steel

hamed Jan. 25, 2025, 3:20 p.m.

The blackout hit without warning—no flicker, no sign of a storm. One moment, the world hummed with the steady pulse of technology, and the next, it was gone. Phones, computers, cars, lights—all of it, vanishing into a quiet void.

In the small city of Eldridge, it was the sudden cessation of sound that unsettled people the most. No hum of refrigerators, no buzz of overhead lights, no distant beeping of microwaves. Just the eerie stillness of a world disconnected.

At first, the reaction was disbelief. People gathered in the streets, pulling their phones from their pockets, only to find them dead. Cars stopped in the middle of intersections, drivers staring out of windshields, wondering why their engines refused to start. The familiar rhythm of life faltered, replaced by an uncomfortable void.

Sarah, a young journalist, felt the weight of the silence in her bones. The noise, the distractions, they had …

The Golden Chain

hamed Jan. 23, 2025, 6:18 p.m.

It started with whispers.

Global markets were in chaos. The dollar was slipping, slowly at first, then like a stone in freefall. Meanwhile, a new player emerged: the BRICS+ digital currency. Gold-backed, unhackable, and hailed as the ultimate disruptor, it had united Brazil, Russia, India, China, South Africa, and their allies under a single monetary banner. They called it AurumCoin.

For ordinary people like Ellis, the shift was barely noticeable at first. His online store, selling 3D-printed gadgets, started receiving requests for payment in AurumCoin. Then his suppliers insisted on it. Within months, his bank sent a polite but curt email: USD accounts would no longer be supported. He had no choice but to convert.

What no one told him was that every AurumCoin transaction was recorded—not just on the blockchain but in a secret ledger controlled by BRICS+. Every purchase, every payment, every tip to a street performer was …

Author Book Signing Catastrophe

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:23 p.m.

The line stretched out the door and around the corner, a solid stream of excited readers eagerly clutching their copies of The Enchanted Forest—the highly anticipated fantasy novel by debut author Clara Winters. The bookstore was packed to the brim, the air buzzing with anticipation. Clara sat behind a table stacked with signed copies, her nervous fingers tapping the pen in front of her.

Her first book signing. Her first real book signing.

“I can do this,” she whispered to herself, forcing a smile. “It’s just a few hours. Just... a few hours.”

Her publicist, Doug, stood beside her, wearing an outfit that screamed “I’m professional, but not too professional.” His constant pacing around the table didn’t help Clara’s nerves. She needed the comfort of routine—sitting in her quiet office with a cup of tea, writing in peace. But here she was. A packed room. Hundreds of people. Her book. …

Ashes and Embers

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 5:59 p.m.

The house was gone.

Emma stood at the edge of the blackened lot, her boots sinking into the scorched earth. The air still carried the acrid scent of smoke, mingling with the faint sweetness of charred wood.

In her mind, the house was still there—the yellow shutters her daughter had painted, the oak dining table that had seen every family meal, the bookshelf her late husband had built. But reality mocked her memories. All that remained was a pile of ash, twisted beams, and broken glass glittering like fallen stars.

Her daughter, Clara, clutched her hand tightly. “Mom,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What about Dad’s guitar?”

Emma closed her eyes, the lump in her throat too large to swallow. That old guitar had been his treasure, a relic of nights filled with music and laughter. It was gone, just like the photographs, the letters, the heirloom quilt her grandmother …

When the Mask Falls

hamed Feb. 26, 2025, 5:06 p.m.

He was known as a pillar of strength—a titan in tailored suits whose firm handshake and measured words had rescued countless ventures from ruin. For decades, Daniel Marrick had built his empire on the creed that one must endure alone. He lent advice, money, and even personal time to those in need, all while keeping his own struggles hidden behind a polished façade.

Behind the gleaming glass walls of boardrooms and victory speeches, Daniel’s world was quietly unraveling. Investments soured one after another, and his once-robust health began to fail. Late-night calls, sleepless hours, and mounting personal losses filled his solitary apartment. Every morning, he ascended to his high-rise office with a stoic smile, determined that his reputation would not betray the truth of his mounting burdens.

For years, the whispers of worry had remained just that—whispers in corridors and hushed conversations over coffee. But one brisk autumn morning, during …

Love Born from Ashes and Embers

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 6:25 p.m.

The air was thick with smoke and the lingering scent of charred wood. A soft, eerie silence hung over the once-vibrant neighborhood, now reduced to a patchwork of rubble and scattered remnants. The fire had come quickly, devouring everything in its path. But amidst the destruction, there was a quiet resilience, a sense of rebuilding not just homes, but lives.

Lena stood at the edge of what had once been her house. Her fingers brushed the edges of a melted frame, its corners blackened, the photograph inside forever lost. She had come here hoping to find something—a token of the past that could somehow remain untouched by the flames. But everything was gone. Her heart felt heavy, crushed by the weight of what she'd lost: not just the house, but the life she had once known.

But it was then, as she stood among the ruins, that she saw him.