Flash Fiction

A small think tank, named the Friendly Muslims League (or FML), in its embryonic age, had convened to discuss the sad state of affairs that was the public image of the Muslim in modern society.

Yusuf needed money, and that was hard to come by for a ten year old with no professional skills or experience...

Amir woke up on Sunday morning on a deserted island—without clothes or any clue of how he got there.

Edna wasn’t allowed to read—not because of her faltering vision, or the headache she got when concentrating on a large block of text for too long—it was illegal; well, at least certain books were.

Dima missed the sound of birds—maybe to some a small thing to miss when sleeping on rubble, but she missed it all the same.