Flash Stories

Embers of the Earth

hamed Jan. 15, 2025, 5:33 p.m.

Jenna had been a firefighter long enough to know that the crackling fire on the horizon was a harbinger of destruction, but nothing could prepare her for the enormity of what was coming. The sun, a fiery orb behind the smoke, painted the sky with the color of rage, its heat suffocating the land.

The fires had started as a whisper in the distance—an ember, a spark, a small flame. But by the time she and her team arrived, the inferno was a monstrous roar, devouring everything in its path. She gripped her hose tighter, her hands raw from the constant pressure. "We fight, we don’t run," she whispered to herself, but the words felt hollow.

As the fire raged, the thick, choking smoke made it hard to see, harder to breathe. The world around them was an endless sea of orange and black. Jenna’s mind flashed back to her …

happiness.

ziamaiko Jan. 9, 2024, 10:49 a.m.

از آن ابتدا، مشخص بود که او بی‌نهایت باهوش است. در واقع از همان سنین پایین همه می‌دانستند که او نابغه است. اما هرگز توجه‌ای کافی نگرفت تا از آن موهبت در راه خوبی استفاده کند.
نامش را موروس گذاشتند. معنی سرنوشت می‌دهد. شخصی است که به بدترین چیزی که می‌تواند اتفاق بی‌افتد فکر می‌کند و بسیار منفی‌نگر است.
هرگز پدرش را ندید. مادرش به او می‌گفت پدرش برای پیدا کردن خوشحالی واقعی آن‌ها را ترک کرده است. تصور می‌کرد پدرش او را دلیل ناراحتی می‌دانسته.
زمانی که تنها سه سال داشت، مادرش جلوی او، درست جلوی چشمانش، خودکشی کرد و او هیچ‌کاری جز تماشا کردن انجام نداد‌.
او آنقدر از تغییر ناگهانی احساستش در یک لحظه ترسید که فقط لبخند زد. انگار لبخند زدن او را به دنیایی که مادرش هنوز زنده بود برمی‌گرداند.
او می‌دانست باید برای مادر عزیزش احساس دلسوزی و غم بکند. واقعا هم چنین احساسی داشت. اما باید حقیقتی …

The Last Letter

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 6:02 p.m.

The fire was closing in.

Lena didn’t have much time. The sky was thick with smoke, and the wind carried embers like burning confetti. The evacuation order had been issued hours ago, but Lena couldn’t leave—not yet. Not without it.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles ached as she sped down the narrow road, weaving through a maze of abandoned cars. Traffic was stalled—everyone trying to flee, but Lena had only one destination: her house.

Her phone had died an hour ago, and her mind was fogged with panic. Her husband, Ethan, had left a letter for her, tucked inside the old cedar chest they’d inherited from his grandmother. It wasn’t just a letter. It was a promise. A promise he made to her before he left for the war. He hadn’t come back, and the letter was all she had left of him.

Now, the …

The Auto-Reply

hamed Jan. 9, 2025, 5:56 p.m.

Dave set his out-of-office email to: "Currently hiking Mount Everest. No access to civilization. Back in two weeks."
He was actually binge-watching Netflix in his apartment.
His boss replied: "Amazing! My brother's leading an expedition there right now. I'll tell him to look for you!"
Dave panicked and updated his auto-reply: "Update: Had to turn back. Yeti attack. Very common this season."
His boss: "Fascinating! National Geographic is there filming a Yeti documentary. They'd love to interview you!"
New update: "False alarm. Wasn't a Yeti. Just a very angry goat."
Boss: "Even better! My sister runs a viral goat video channel. She's at base camp!"
Final desperate update: "Plot twist: I'm still at my desk. The Himalayas screensaver fooled me."
Boss's reply: "I know. I'm watching you through the office window. Nice pajamas. PS: None of my siblings exist. But your creativity deserves a raise."

The Simorgh’s Feather

hamed Jan. 19, 2025, 5:23 p.m.

Arya sat in his cramped studio apartment, staring at the blank canvas that mocked him from across the room. A half-empty cup of cold tea sat beside crumpled sketches and a paintbrush caked with dried blue paint. For months, the ideas had stopped coming. He felt hollow, like a bird with clipped wings.

"Why bother?" he muttered, slumping back into his chair. He hadn’t sold a painting in over a year. His dreams of exhibitions and acclaim felt as distant as the stars he used to paint in his childhood landscapes.

That night, as he lay in bed tossing and turning, a sharp sound startled him awake. The clink of glass breaking. Arya sat up, heart pounding, and turned on the dim bedside lamp. The window was open, though he was sure he had closed it.

On the floor lay a feather.

It shimmered faintly in the light, shifting colors …

Seeds of Tomorrow

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 5:34 p.m.

Maya's boots crunched over sun-bleached plastic as her team crested another dune. Ten years of expeditions, and all they'd found were the bones of cities and endless stretches of waste. The world had become a museum of humanity's mistakes.

"Two hours of oxygen left," Carter warned through the comm. Even with their advanced filters, the air outside remained toxic—another gift from their ancestors' carbon addiction.

That's when Zara screamed.

Through her goggles, Maya saw it: a shimmer of impossible green in the valley below. Not the sickly artificial green of the algae farms, but real, living plants.

"It's not on any maps," Carter whispered, checking his tablet.

They descended carefully. The valley's walls had hidden it from satellite imaging, creating a microclimate that somehow survived the Great Die-Off. Maya's hands trembled as she took readings. The air here was different—cleaner.

Inside a cave at the valley's edge, they found the …

The Betrayal

dehongi Jan. 6, 2024, 12:25 p.m.

The Betrayal

Tom and Lisa walked home from school, their backpacks heavy with books. Tom had a list of groceries to buy for their mother, who had given him some money in the morning. Lisa, his younger sister, had a different idea.

"Tom, can we buy some ice cream? Please, please, please!" she begged, pointing at the frozen treats in the store window.

"Lisa, we don't have enough money for that. We have to buy the things on the list. Mom will be mad if we don't," Tom said, trying to be responsible.

"But I really want some ice cream. It's so hot today. And you love ice cream too, don't you?" Lisa said, batting her eyelashes.

Tom sighed. He did love ice cream, but he also wanted to do the right thing. He looked at the list and the money in his hand. Maybe he could buy a cheaper …

He Had No Experience With Girls

hamed April 30, 2024, 6:39 p.m.

Rohan stood awkwardly in the kitchen, surrounded by the sweet chaos of his new life. Jasmine, his wife, a whirlwind of colorful scarves and laughter, rummaged through the cabinets. Married, just a week ago, arranged by their families. Rohan, a bookish introvert, knew more about dragons than dating.

"Where's the—" Jasmine stopped, a puzzled frown creasing her forehead. "The… spice thingy?"

Rohan blinked. "Spice thingy?" His world revolved around neatly labeled jars.

"The red powder, for the curry!" Jasmine exclaimed, exasperated.

Rohan shuffled, feeling a familiar heat creep up his neck. "Uh, maybe Ma used it all?"

Jasmine sighed, a sound both adorable and slightly infuriating. "Fine. I'll ask her."

Later, lying in bed, Rohan watched Jasmine sleep, moonlight tracing soft curves on her face. He liked her, that much he knew. But navigating this new world of shared meals, tangled emotions, and spice thingies... it was like deciphering an …

The Great AI Bake-Off

hamed Jan. 8, 2025, 7:46 p.m.

In the digital realm where tweets flew like breadcrumbs, there was a new culinary craze sweeping across X (formerly Twitter). It was the era of the AI Bake-Off, where artificial intelligence algorithms were not just writing code but now attempting to bake the perfect cake.

The stage was set in the virtual kitchen of CloudBakers, an innovative tech startup that decided to merge the worlds of AI and gastronomy. The star of the show was Chef AI, an algorithm trained on thousands of recipes, culinary videos, and cooking blogs.

The day of the competition arrived, and Chef AI was to face off against Chef Human, a renowned baker with hands that had kneaded more dough than lines of code Chef AI had processed. The challenge? To bake a vegan chocolate cake that would make even the most hardcore carnivore's mouth water.

Chef AI started with all the confidence of …

A Curtain Divides the World - Chapter 5: "Mythology of Girls"

dehongi Jan. 17, 2025, 6:41 p.m.

It started as a normal school day, or at least as normal as it could be in Arash's all-boys school, where chaos and testosterone-filled chatter reigned supreme. Mr. Akbari, their literature teacher, was scribbling on the blackboard, his usual monotone voice explaining the poetic structure of an ancient Persian poem.
Arash and Kian, sitting in the back row, were engaged in a silent but heated argument over whether Superman or Rostam would win in a fight. Kian was adamant that Rostam’s divine gifts would give him the edge, while Arash was convinced that Superman’s heat vision would make quick work of Rostam’s armor.
“Boys!” Mr. Akbari barked, his chalk snapping in half from the force of his exasperation. “If you’re going to argue, at least argue about something meaningful. Like… I don’t know… poetry.”
“Sorry, sir,” Arash said quickly, nudging Kian to shut up before they got detention.
Mr. Akbari sighed and turned back …