Flash Stories

Across the Divide

hamed Jan. 18, 2025, 4:23 p.m.

“Rent just went up again,” Sam typed, the words heavy on the screen. She stared at her phone, sitting in the corner of her tiny Brooklyn apartment. The radiator hissed, and the faint smell of burnt toast wafted from the neighbor’s kitchen.

Moments later, the reply came: “I can’t imagine. Here, rents have been capped since the crisis. Have you thought about leaving?”

Sam sighed. “Where would I go, Marta? The U.S. is like quicksand. Once you’re in, you can’t afford to get out.”

Across the Atlantic, Marta sat in her sunny Lisbon flat, sipping espresso. Outside, the pastel buildings of her neighborhood gleamed in the afternoon light. Her job as a remote UX designer paid enough to cover rent, groceries, and even a weekend trip to the Algarve now and then. But she didn’t say that to Sam. She didn’t want to widen the gap between them.

“I heard …

Wall Street Exodus

hamed Jan. 18, 2025, 4:21 p.m.

The email hit Andrew’s inbox at 9:03 AM, marked URGENT: “Effective immediately, GreenWave Investments will halt all ESG initiatives to refocus on core profitability.”

He stared at the words, numb. Just last week, he’d given a presentation on the firm’s commitment to sustainability, citing how their green portfolio had reduced carbon emissions by 20% while delivering steady returns. The applause had been polite, but now he realized it was hollow.

In the break room, the whispers were deafening. "It’s the market," someone said. "Investors want quick wins, not greenwashing."

But Andrew couldn’t let it go. He had joined GreenWave two years ago, driven by the promise of impact investing—real change paired with real returns. Now, it felt like he’d sold his soul to the highest bidder.

“Andrew, we need to talk,” his boss, Marcy, said, leaning against the doorway to his cubicle. Her smile was forced, her voice low. “You’re …

The Last Tide

hamed Jan. 18, 2025, 4:18 p.m.

The sky was orange-gray, the sun a pale disk smothered in ash. Maya stared out the window of their small coastal home, watching the waves claw closer to the dunes. The wind howled, rattling the loose boards of the house, but it was the silence inside that pressed hardest on her chest.

“We need to leave,” her brother Kiran said, his voice steady but tight. He stood by the front door with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, ready to go. He’d been ready for weeks.

Dad didn’t look up from the kitchen table. His rough hands cradled a chipped coffee mug, the same one he used every morning. “This house is all we have left,” he muttered. “If we leave, where do we go?”

“The shelters are overcrowded,” Mom added, not looking at anyone. Her gaze was fixed on the photo of the family fishing trip that hung …

The First Hundred Days

hamed Jan. 18, 2025, 4:16 p.m.

When President Everson swore in, they called it The Great Reset.

Lila felt the change before the news anchors could finish their glowing reports. Her bus pass, once free under the old administration, was suddenly invalid. A sleek new kiosk demanded payment. "Credit only," it chirped. Lila sighed and swiped, watching half her grocery budget vanish in seconds.

At work, her boss handed her a packet labeled Employee Reclassification. Inside, she found her new status: Independent Contractor. Benefits? Gone. Hours? "Flexible."

“Adapt or be left behind,” Everson had declared during the campaign, smiling into the cameras. Lila hadn’t voted for him, but it didn’t matter now. His face was everywhere—billboards, TV, even on the new government app that citizens were "strongly encouraged" to download.

The app sent push notifications every hour: "Report your productivity! How are you contributing to the nation’s growth today?" Lila dismissed them at first, until her …

The Costliest Blaze

hamed Jan. 18, 2025, 4:13 p.m.

The air was heavy with ash, each breath burning like a silent scream. Rosa stood at the edge of what was once her home, her trembling hands clutching the charred remains of a porcelain angel. It was the only thing left unbroken, spared by the inferno that had swallowed everything else.

A week ago, her living room had been filled with laughter. The family photo wall, filled with decades of memories, had been her pride. Birthdays, graduations, her late husband’s crooked smile—all now reduced to blackened rubble. Rosa closed her eyes and tried to summon their faces, but all she could see were flames.

"Mom?" A voice called softly behind her. Rosa turned to see her daughter, Elena, holding a bundle of singed papers. They were brittle and blackened around the edges—Rosa’s recipes, written in her mother’s cursive hand, smudged and faint but still there.

Rosa collapsed to her knees, …

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 …

A Curtain Divides the World - Chapter 9: "The Curtain Falls"

dehongi Jan. 17, 2025, 6:45 p.m.

The night was unusually quiet. Arash had spent hours replaying every awkward conversation he’d ever had with a girl in his head, his attempts at making small talk during the field trip looping on an endless loop. Finally, as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, he realized something: this wasn’t just about him.
It wasn’t just about the boys in his school or even the occasional encounter with a girl at a family gathering. It was about everything—his family’s expectations, the way society had shaped his views without ever allowing him to question them. It was about the vast chasm of misunderstanding between the genders, one that wasn’t as insurmountable as he had been led to believe.
And he was tired of it.

The Great Confrontation
The next evening, over dinner, Arash decided it was time. His mother served him a plate of khoresh, her hands moving deftly between the kitchen …

A Curtain Divides the World - Chapter 8: "Field Trip to Reality"

dehongi Jan. 17, 2025, 6:45 p.m.

The announcement came out of nowhere.
“We’re going on a field trip,” Mr. Shafiei, their civics teacher, said one morning, standing in front of the blackboard with his usual air of exasperated patience.
The classroom erupted into chaos.
“What? Where? Why?” Arash heard himself ask, his voice blending with the excited murmurs of his classmates.
“Quiet!” Mr. Shafiei barked. “It’s an educational outing. We’re visiting the Khosrow Environmental Center. You’ll learn about community projects and teamwork.”
That didn’t sound exciting at all, but a break from school was still a break from school.
“Wait, sir,” one of the boys piped up. “Is it just… us going?”
Mr. Shafiei’s lips twitched, almost forming a smirk. “No. The youth group from Shams High School will also be there.”
Dead silence fell over the classroom. Everyone knew that Shams High School was co-ed.

The Boys’ Plan
The bus ride to the environmental center was electric with nervous energy. Most of the boys …

A Curtain Divides the World - Chapter 7: "Revolution in the Library"

dehongi Jan. 17, 2025, 6:44 p.m.

Arash had never thought of the school library as a particularly thrilling place. Sure, it was a quiet refuge from the chaos of his classmates’ shouting matches and pencil wars, but it was mostly just rows of dusty books, ruled over by the ever-frowning librarian, Mr. Jalali.
But one day, everything changed.
It started when Kian, who was supposed to be reading about physics, elbowed Arash and whispered, “Psst! Look at this.”
Arash looked over. Kian was holding a thin, unassuming book. The cover was simple, with a flower and a woman’s name scrawled elegantly across it: "Parinoush Saniee."
“A book by a woman?” Arash asked, his voice a mix of surprise and awe.
“Yeah,” Kian said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Do you think we’re even allowed to read this?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
Kian raised an eyebrow. “Because it’s by her! You know… a girl.”
Arash smirked but couldn’t deny his curiosity. Growing up, …

A Curtain Divides the World - Chapter 6: "A Recipe for Trouble"

dehongi Jan. 17, 2025, 6:43 p.m.

Arash was lounging on the living room sofa, scrolling through his phone, when his mother’s voice pierced the air like a dagger.
“Arash, come to the kitchen. Now.”
Her tone was one he’d learned to fear—it wasn’t angry, but it was firm, the kind that brooked no argument.
He groaned, dragging himself off the couch. “What did I do now?”
“You’re sixteen,” his mother declared as he entered the kitchen, hands on her hips. “You’re old enough to learn how to cook.”
Arash blinked at her. “Cook? Me?”
“Yes, you,” she replied, already pulling out pots and pans. “One day, you’ll need this skill. What if you’re hungry and there’s no one to cook for you?”
“Mom, that’s what restaurants are for. Or instant noodles.”
Her glare was enough to silence him. “No son of mine is going to rely on instant noodles. You’re learning to cook. End of discussion.”
She handed him an apron, which he stared at …