Sami Kh

Joined July 2025

7 stories

Stories (7)

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The Bag Made of Dreams. AI-Generated.
Twelve-year-old Aman walked the same dusty path every morning—four kilometers from his home to the government school at the edge of town. His slippers were cracked, his feet calloused, but his stride was steady. Strapped across his back was a worn-out rice sack, stitched with red thread at the edges. It wasn't a schoolbag, but to Aman, it carried more than just books—it carried belief.
By Sami Kh6 months ago in Education
The Regular at Table Nine. AI-Generated.
Every Monday at exactly 8:15 AM, he walked in. Not 8:10. Not 8:20. 8:15. He wore a navy jacket, scuffed brown shoes, and always ordered the same thing: one black coffee, no sugar, no cream. He never asked for anything else. Never spoke more than five words at a time. Never smiled. Never made eye contact longer than necessary.
By Sami Kh6 months ago in Fiction
The Email That Never Sent. AI-Generated.
It was buried in the clutter of draft folders, somewhere between a grocery list and a resignation letter—an email I never had the courage to send.
By Sami Kh6 months ago in Fiction
The Demon in the Mirror. AI-Generated.
My name is sami kh, 27 years old, a mechanic from a small town in Pennsylvania. I’ve always lived a practical life—wrenches, oil stains, busted engines. Nothing mystical. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a socket wrench and elbow grease.
By Sami Kh6 months ago in Horror
Whispers of the Heart.
The first time Aarav noticed her, she was sitting alone under the cherry tree behind the library, tracing the edges of a paperback with her fingers. Her name was Meera — quiet, observant, with eyes that seemed to carry entire stories no one else had read.
By Sami Kh6 months ago in Motivation
The Second First Dance. AI-Generated.
I hadn’t stepped inside the old dance studio in fifteen years. The faded sign still hung above the door: “Madeline’s School of Dance.” The edges were chipped now, and the pink letters had dulled with time. Just like me.
By Sami Kh6 months ago in Fiction
Light Breaks Water
The lake holds its breath as morning leans in — gold unraveling on the skin of stillness. No wind. No wing. Just the hush
By Sami Kh6 months ago in Poets