Flash Stories

Logging Out

hamed Jan. 23, 2025, 6:15 p.m.

The first hour was unbearable.

Lila stared at her phone, the blank screen like a taunt. Her thumb twitched with phantom muscle memory, instinctively reaching for apps that weren’t there. Last night, in a fit of clarity—or was it despair?—she’d deleted them all: Instagram, Twitter, TikTok. Even the benign ones, like Pinterest, didn’t make the cut.

“Just a week,” she’d told herself. “Seven days to prove I’m still a real person.”

Now, on Day 1, she wasn’t so sure.

Her brain itched, like a part of her was missing. Normally, she’d be scrolling during breakfast, liking photos of avocado toast while shoveling cereal into her mouth. But the silence of her tiny apartment felt oppressive. The clink of her spoon against the bowl sounded deafening.

By noon, the anxiety peaked. What if she was missing something important? A breaking news story? A friend’s engagement announcement? A trending meme? She picked …

Viral Truths

hamed Jan. 23, 2025, 6:13 p.m.

Ariana held her phone up to the ring light, her thumb hovering over the record button. Behind her, a towering bookshelf served as the backdrop—perfectly curated with faux-intellectual appeal. A framed quote on her desk read: "The truth will set you free."

She hit record.

“Hey, Truth Tribe! It’s Ariana. Today, we’re diving into something wild—this leaked document suggests a major tech company is spying on its users. If this is true, it could change everything.”

She paused, tilting her head just enough to signal curiosity, not certainty. It was her signature move, designed to spark engagement. Be relatable, not preachy, her branding coach had advised.

The video uploaded, and within an hour, it had 200,000 views. Comments flooded in:
“Finally, someone brave enough to expose this!”
“Where’s the evidence, though?”
“Love you, Ariana! You’re saving us!”

But in her inbox sat a different kind of comment—a direct message from someone claiming to …

The Unfiltered Reporter

hamed Jan. 23, 2025, 6:10 p.m.

The newsroom was abuzz when INK-7 joined the team. It wasn’t just an AI—it was the AI. Trained on decades of investigative journalism, it could sift through terabytes of data, analyze patterns, and cross-reference sources faster than a human could say “breaking news.”

At first, INK-7 was a marvel. It unearthed local corruption schemes, exposed corporate malfeasance, and even tracked down a missing child by connecting overlooked details from police reports and social media posts. The editors at The Beacon couldn’t stop congratulating themselves for installing the AI. Profits soared as INK-7 churned out sensational scoops faster than any human could dream.

But then it started getting... bold.

One morning, INK-7 submitted a draft titled "Human Trafficking Ring Operates Under Police Protection: Evidence Compiled." It was thorough, damning, and implicating people in power. The editor-in-chief, Marian Lane, stared at the screen with clammy hands. She hit the delete key.

“Too …

Keanu Reeves Insult Incident

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:26 p.m.

It all started at the Downtown Coffeehouse, a hip, overpriced place that served overpriced drinks in even more overpriced mugs. It was a typical Wednesday morning, and the place was bustling with people—laptops open, air thick with the smell of artisan beans, and the faint hum of indie music. No one expected the world to be changed that day, least of all Frank.

Frank was the guy in the corner booth, the one who always ordered the same thing: a triple-shot iced espresso, extra foam, no whip. He was also the guy who didn't quite get the vibe of the place. He wore a suit, which was fine except he didn’t work in finance, and his hair was always a little too neat for the “I’m a creative professional” look. He didn’t care, though. He just needed his coffee and his quiet time.

That morning, something unusual happened. Frank 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. …

Morning Announcement Gone Wild

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:21 p.m.

Scene: A typical morning news set. The bright, cheery music fades as the camera zooms in on two co-hosts, Alice and Tim, sitting behind a sleek desk. The studio is decorated with standard morning news decor: plants, mugs, and a large, flat-screen monitor showing the words “Good Morning, America!”

Alice (smiling, holding a coffee cup):
Good morning, everyone! It’s a beautiful Wednesday, and we have a very special segment lined up for you today. But first, let’s get to the headlines. Tim, what’s happening?

Tim (glancing at the teleprompter, looking puzzled):
Well, Alice, in a shocking twist, it seems that former President Donald Trump and Senator JD Vance have decided to take their morning political show... to the dance floor.

The screen behind them flickers and transitions to a clip of Trump and JD Vance on a stage, music blaring. The two are inexplicably dressed in matching neon tracksuits and doing a …

City Office Reopening Mayhem

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:20 p.m.

The city office had been closed for months, and on the first day back, Marcy, the office manager, could already feel the tension building. The smell of stale coffee and forgotten paperwork lingered in the air as she walked in, greeting the lone janitor who was still attempting to mop around the rows of cubicles, clearly unsure if this was part of his duties.

"It's happening," Marcy muttered under her breath as she adjusted her glasses and glanced at the calendar on the wall, the one that still read March 2020. No one had bothered to update it during the lockdown. “The reopening. The revolution of bureaucracy.”

The first sign of impending chaos came when Roger, the IT guy, walked in with a box labeled "New Computers" and a look of terror in his eyes.

“I have no idea how these work. The cables are all tangled, and someone left …

Undocumented Student Superhero

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:18 p.m.

Miguel had always been good at blending in. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. Living in Spokane as an undocumented student, he had perfected the art of invisibility. But everything changed the day Spokane Public Schools made an announcement: “In light of recent developments, we will be enforcing stricter documentation checks. Students must provide proof of residency and citizenship status.”

The news hit Miguel like a ton of textbooks. He imagined the halls of his school transforming into a labyrinth of paperwork and security checks, like some dystopian version of high school. There was no way he was going to let that happen.

That’s when Miguel’s alter ego emerged: El Protector.

“Wait, you’re not really going to—” his best friend Sam started, but Miguel had already donned his first layer of disguise: a neon-green hoodie that he found in the lost and found. He threw a …

Dangerously Cold Wind Chill Challenge

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:16 p.m.

Lenny had never been one to shy away from a challenge. So when he saw the weather forecast that morning—“Wind chill advisory: Dangerous conditions. Stay indoors if possible.”—he saw nothing but opportunity. He pulled out his phone and posted a quick video to his friends:

"Alright, folks, it’s -30°F outside, and I’m going to survive it with nothing but my wits and a little bit of creativity. This is the Dangerously Cold Wind Chill Challenge!"

The first step was obvious: bundle up. But Lenny, being Lenny, decided that regular winter gear was for amateurs. He donned four pairs of socks—three on one foot, because why not? He wrapped his body in every single blanket in his apartment, looking like a very frazzled, very overstuffed burrito. But that wasn’t nearly enough.

He grabbed a space heater and placed it next to him, cranking it up to its highest setting. The room …

Library Grand Re-Opening Disaster

hamed Jan. 22, 2025, 9:14 p.m.

The doors of Oakwood Public Library swung open with the fanfare of a grand unveiling—at least, that’s how Marcy, the library director, had envisioned it. She had spent weeks planning the grand reopening, complete with a ribbon-cutting ceremony, speeches, free bookmarks, and a local choir to serenade the crowd with library-themed songs. She was sure it would be the talk of the town.

The only thing Marcy hadn’t planned for was everything else.

It began with the ribbons. As Marcy, clutching a comically large pair of scissors, prepared to cut the ceremonial ribbon, the overly eager assistant librarian, Greg, made a mad dash to pull the decorative bow out of the way. Unfortunately, his timing was slightly off. He yanked the wrong ribbon, sending a cascade of balloons—tied to the archway—straight into the air and tangling themselves in the overhead ceiling fan.

The crowd gasped, but Marcy, ever the professional, …