Fakhr Writter
Stories (4)
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The Day a Rich Man Learned True Wealth
The morning air was sharp — the kind that bites at your skin and makes each breath puff out in little clouds. Frost clung to the sidewalks like a thin layer of powdered sugar. The city’s usual rush had slowed; people walked hunched, hands buried deep in pockets, scarves wrapped high.
By Fakhr Writter5 months ago in Humans
The Day the Forest Chose a Hero
A Quiet Kind of Courage A Peaceful Morning Turns Uncertain The morning sun spilled over the forest like a warm embrace, bathing the leaves in gold. The air smelled of fresh dew and pine, and somewhere above, a family of finches filled the branches with cheerful song. The river flowed lazily nearby, its soft murmur blending with the rustle of the wind.
By Fakhr Writter6 months ago in Motivation
The Day the Sky Cried With Me
The Beginning of a Heavy Day The morning started with a gray sky, the kind of sky that makes the world feel heavier than usual. I wasn’t in the mood to go anywhere, but life doesn’t wait for feelings, so I grabbed my worn-out bag and headed to the bus stop.
By Fakhr Writter6 months ago in Confessions
"The Rain and the Stranger". AI-Generated.
The rain had been falling since morning, tapping against my office window like an impatient guest. By evening, it was no longer a gentle drizzle — it was a downpour, the kind that made the city streets look like rivers.
By Fakhr Writter6 months ago in Motivation
