I slapped the table with excitement. The Writer looked up from the book she was reading, a bit surprised, but I failed to care. “Last night was amazing!” I told her excitedly.

“Oh, you finally did it!” She put down her book. For her, her friends’ stories are always better…

Sunday morning 9 am
All by himself
He woke up in his room

Last night was okay
Another night where he met people
A normal weekend before the lazy afternoon

Sunday morning 10 am
She woke up next to someone she just met last night
It was a room in an apartment…

People always asked me why I visited the same coffee shop almost every day. The baristas and securities thought I live or work nearby, I don’t. My friends thought I was going after someone who works there, I don’t. …

Mohammad Fahmi

A boy trying to find himself and the others through words.

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