Flash Stories

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 Weight of Days

hamed Jan. 12, 2025, 5:11 p.m.

Marcus stared at his reflection in the coffee shop window, barely recognizing the man looking back at him. Three months unemployed had left dark circles under his eyes and a permanent slouch in his shoulders. His severance pay was running thin, and each rejected application felt like another brick added to the weight he carried.

He pushed open the door, the bell's cheerful tingle a mockery of his mood. All he wanted was the cheapest coffee they had—a small luxury he still allowed himself.

"Marcus? Marcus Chen, is that you?"

The voice cut through the coffee shop's ambient chatter. Marcus turned to find David Torres, his old college roommate, rising from a corner table. They hadn't spoken in what—five, six years?

David's smile was exactly as Marcus remembered it: wide, genuine, brightening his entire face. "Man, what are the odds? Sit with me!"

Before Marcus could make an excuse, David …

The Last Broadcast

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 6:17 p.m.

Mia sat in the dim light of her living room, the steady hum of the television filling the silence. The night was quiet, a far cry from the chaos that had started earlier in the day. News stories flickered across the screen, mundane things—political debates, celebrity scandals, weather reports. But then, as the anchor’s voice dropped to a solemn tone, something changed.

“—In a groundbreaking development, scientists have confirmed the existence of an ancient, forgotten civilization beneath the surface of the Earth. Hidden for millennia, their technology, possibly centuries ahead of our own, could have major implications for how we understand our history and the future of our planet. The implications are—”

Mia’s breath caught in her throat. She leaned forward, eyes locked on the screen, heart racing. She couldn’t have heard that right. But as the anchor repeated the headline, the words solidified in her mind, each syllable like …

The Weight of Choices

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 6:15 p.m.

Lena stood in the bustling airport terminal, the hum of departing flights a backdrop to her hurried thoughts. She had just returned from a business trip, her mind tangled with deadlines and unanswered emails. Grabbing her suitcase from the baggage claim, she didn’t think twice. It was black, like hers, the same size, the same worn handle from years of travel. She hoisted it onto the trolley and headed to the exit.

It wasn’t until she arrived at home, the evening sun casting long shadows over her apartment, that she realized the mistake. The suitcase wasn’t hers. Her stomach tightened. The zipper, usually stiff, was looser on this one, the fabric slightly worn in places. She opened it, expecting clothes, maybe toiletries. Instead, she found something far more disconcerting.

The first thing that caught her eye was a framed photograph, slightly smudged from travel. A young couple, arms around each …

Forbidden Touch

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 6:13 p.m.

The city was silent, save for the soft hum of the surveillance drones circling above, their metallic wings cutting through the heavy air like ghosts. Aeliana stood at the edge of the park, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the cool stone bench. Every movement felt exposed in this world, every glance, every breath, as though the walls of control were closing in tighter with every passing second.

She glanced around. There was no one in sight—just the empty paths, the closed-off playgrounds, the tall fences that surrounded everything. Public affection was forbidden, and the penalty for even a glance too lingering, a touch too intimate, was harsh. For generations, the government had ensured that love was something kept behind closed doors, behind locked windows. Anything more than a handshake, a nod, was a betrayal of the rules.

Aeliana felt the weight of the world press on her chest, …

The Silent Scream

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 6:11 p.m.

It was another Tuesday morning, and Clara was already behind. Her laptop sat open on the kitchen counter, the blue glow of emails and spreadsheets casting a soft, cold light over the room. A faint hum from her coffee machine was the only sound, aside from the occasional shuffle of her daughter, Emma, moving around the house in preparation for school. Clara’s mind was already running through her to-do list—meetings, deadlines, client calls. She had learned to function in the silence of her own world, the one where work was her refuge, her purpose.

“Mom, don’t forget the parent-teacher meeting today,” Emma called out, her voice small but steady, as she pulled on her jacket.

Clara looked up for a moment, her eyes tired. “Of course, sweetie. I’ll be there.”

Emma smiled weakly, but Clara didn’t see it. She was already scrolling through her phone, multitasking, sending a quick message …

Lost in Translation

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 6:09 p.m.

Amina had always been the quiet one, the one who kept her thoughts tucked away, neatly folded like the silk scarves her grandmother had sewn for her. She moved through life with grace, always respectful of tradition, never stepping too far outside the lines her family had drawn for her. So when she met Ryan, the charming expatriate with the easy smile, she hesitated, but only for a moment.

He was kind, patient, and seemed to understand her in ways she hadn’t expected. He respected her space and her values, never pushing too hard for things she wasn’t ready to give. He listened when she talked about her family’s expectations, her dreams of becoming a teacher, her fears of losing herself in a world that often felt foreign.

But there was something about Ryan that always felt... too perfect. She would tell herself it was just her insecurities, her …

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 …

Robot Heart

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 5:59 p.m.

The room was dim, the soft hum of the machine the only sound in the otherwise silent apartment. Lucas sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on the glowing screen in front of him. It was a familiar sight—Elara, the AI assistant he had relied on for the last ten years, her calm voice filling the space around him.

"Lucas," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "You’ve been staring at that decision for hours. You know what needs to be done."

Lucas swallowed hard, his throat tight. It wasn’t that he didn’t know. He did. He had to delete her. Permanently. The company he worked for had announced a new initiative—new, more advanced AI assistants, ones that didn’t rely on outdated code or archaic emotional constructs. Elara was to be replaced. He was to erase her data, sever the bond they’d built, and upgrade to something more... efficient.

But …

The Water Wars

hamed Jan. 10, 2025, 5:55 p.m.

The sun hung heavy in the sky, a merciless eye watching the land below. The river, once a lifeline, was now a trickle—a shadow of its former self. What remained of its waters had become more precious than gold, and the divide between the two communities on either bank had deepened into something unspoken, but understood.

Kara stood at the edge of the river, her hands clenched at her sides. Across the water, a group of men from the neighboring village gathered, their faces hard with suspicion and distrust. She could see them eyeing her, and she knew they saw the same thing in her: a representative of an enemy, someone who would do anything to take what little they had left.

"Talk to them," whispered Jamal, the elder of her community. His voice was rough, like stones grinding together. "If we don't, they'll come for the river. We can't …