Sami ullah
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Stories (18)
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The Window She Never Closed
Mira always kept her window open. Even during the coldest months, when winter pressed itself against the glass and the wind crawled in like a quiet ghost, she kept it cracked — just enough for air and memory to move in and out without permission. Neighbors teased her about it. Some said she liked the cold more than warmth. Others assumed she just forgot to close things, like feelings, or doors.
By Sami ullah2 months ago in Humans
The Man Who Returned Every Lost Wallet
📖 The Man Who Returned Every Lost Wallet In the small town of Brookside, people often said it was the kind of place where nothing extraordinary ever happened. The river flowed the same way every year, the trees on Main Street shed their leaves the same way every fall, and life went on like a slow-moving song everyone already knew the words to.
By Sami ullah2 months ago in Humans
The Window Across the Street
The Window Across the Street By : Sami ullah When Emma moved into her small apartment in the city, she didn’t expect her days to feel so quiet. The walls were thin, the nights long, and the only sound that kept her company was the hum of passing traffic.
By Sami ullah2 months ago in Humans
The Bus Ride Home
📖 The Bus Ride Home By : Sami ullah The city was nearly asleep when I boarded the last bus home. Rain drummed softly on the roof, tapping in rhythm with the hum of the old engine. The streets outside were blurred by fog and light — reflections dancing in puddles like fading memories.
By Sami ullah3 months ago in Humans
The Coffee Shop Letter
📖 The Coffee Shop Letter By : Sami ullah The rain had started before sunrise — not a storm, just a steady drizzle that turned the streets silver and the air soft with mist. Sara loved mornings like this. They made the world feel quieter, slower, easier to breathe in.
By Sami ullah3 months ago in Humans
The Girl Who Returned My Wallet
📖 The Girl Who Returned My Wallet By : Sami ullah It was a chilly Saturday evening, and the city was glowing in that in-between light — where day and night wrestle for the sky. I’d just finished a long, frustrating day at work. My phone battery was dying, my bag was heavy, and all I wanted was to get home, collapse, and forget the world existed.
By Sami ullah3 months ago in Humans
The Stranger at the Train Station
📖 The Stranger at the Train Station By : Sami ullah It was one of those grey mornings when everything feels heavy. The air was cold, the sky a dull silver, and the train station buzzed with quiet impatience. I was late again — not just for the train, but for life.
By Sami ullah3 months ago in Humans
“The Call I Almost Missed”
📖 The Call I Almost Missed By : Sami ullah 📖 The Call I Almost Missed It was a quiet Thursday night — the kind where the world feels half-asleep. The sound of rain tapped against my window while I stood at the sink, washing dishes I’d been avoiding all day.
By Sami ullah3 months ago in Families
“The Forgotten Letter”
📖 The Forgotten Letter By : Sami ullah 🌤️ A Rainy Afternoon It started on one of those quiet Sundays when the rain seems to erase all sound. I was cleaning out my old desk — the one I hadn’t opened in years — filled with receipts, tangled wires, and memories that no longer had names.
By Sami ullah3 months ago in Humans
“The Old Man on the Park Bench”
📖 The Old Man on the Park Bench By : Sami ullah 🌤️ A Quiet Afternoon It was a Saturday afternoon — the kind that feels too still, almost frozen between boredom and peace. The park near my apartment was nearly empty, except for the sound of leaves whispering and the occasional laughter of children in the distance.
By Sami ullah3 months ago in Humans
“The Old Man on the Park Bench”
📖 The Old Man on the Park Benc By : Sami ullah 🌤️ A Quiet Afternoon It was a Saturday afternoon — the kind that feels too still, almost frozen between boredom and peace. The park near my apartment was nearly empty, except for the sound of leaves whispering and the occasional laughter of children in the distance.
By Sami ullah3 months ago in Humans
