He sat at his desk, the quietness of the estate calming him. He'd glance to one particular letter, the condition of the paper catching his eye.
The name on the front read, "From Zahir, your Nephew."
Fudail furrowed his brows in confusion, thinking to himself; What? This can't be true, my sister never had a child.. from what I can remember at least… He opened the letter, reading it aloud to himself;
Dear Mister Bashshar,
My name is Zahir, and I have reason to believe that I am your nephew. Upon my mother's death five years ago, I have learned a lot about where I've come from. My mother's name was Aisha Bashshar, and I found out you two were siblings. When you get the chance, please write back, thank you.
Spirit Guide,
Zahir.
A tear made its way to Fudail's eye, he'd wipe it away before repeating the name over and over.
"Zahir.. Zahir.. Zahir.."
He gently folded the paper, looking out his window, he'd tuck the sheet into his chest pocket. As the night went on, Fudails thoughts were flooded; Why would she hide a child from me? A life, family.. Hm.
Early in the morning, Fudail rose from his bed. Throwing his robe on he'd go to his office, immediately grabbing a paper and pen. He'd scribble down;
Zahir,
Thank you for writing, I'd like to meet by this evening if your schedule permits. I need to see you for myself.
Spirit Guide,
Fudail Bashshar
After he scribbled down the letter, he sent it off to be delivered that day. Being a Wednesday, he got ready for the meetings and paperwork that would come his way.
That evening, the sound of a knock could be heard throughout the almost lifeless estate. Fudail would come to the door, opening it slowly before gasping for a breath. Zahir was standing there, the note that was sent in hand. Struggling to comprehend what he was seeing, Fudail just stood there. Disbelief, confusion, sadness. As he examined Zahir's features, he saw and exact picture of Aisha. Fudail stepped out of his estate, going to embrace Zahir. A moment he never thought he'd ever have. He has a family. Zahir, taken aback by Fudails reaction, gently returns the embrace. An uncle Zahir thought was a myth, and a nephew Fudail didn't know he wanted. The two spent the rest of the evening moving Zahir into his new room and bonding with each other.
That evening was the first one that didn't seem so quiet. But in a good way. The estate had a new life to it. It seemed almost brighter.
The name on the front read, "From Zahir, your Nephew."
Fudail furrowed his brows in confusion, thinking to himself; What? This can't be true, my sister never had a child.. from what I can remember at least… He opened the letter, reading it aloud to himself;
Dear Mister Bashshar,
My name is Zahir, and I have reason to believe that I am your nephew. Upon my mother's death five years ago, I have learned a lot about where I've come from. My mother's name was Aisha Bashshar, and I found out you two were siblings. When you get the chance, please write back, thank you.
Spirit Guide,
Zahir.
A tear made its way to Fudail's eye, he'd wipe it away before repeating the name over and over.
"Zahir.. Zahir.. Zahir.."
He gently folded the paper, looking out his window, he'd tuck the sheet into his chest pocket. As the night went on, Fudails thoughts were flooded; Why would she hide a child from me? A life, family.. Hm.
Early in the morning, Fudail rose from his bed. Throwing his robe on he'd go to his office, immediately grabbing a paper and pen. He'd scribble down;
Zahir,
Thank you for writing, I'd like to meet by this evening if your schedule permits. I need to see you for myself.
Spirit Guide,
Fudail Bashshar
After he scribbled down the letter, he sent it off to be delivered that day. Being a Wednesday, he got ready for the meetings and paperwork that would come his way.
That evening, the sound of a knock could be heard throughout the almost lifeless estate. Fudail would come to the door, opening it slowly before gasping for a breath. Zahir was standing there, the note that was sent in hand. Struggling to comprehend what he was seeing, Fudail just stood there. Disbelief, confusion, sadness. As he examined Zahir's features, he saw and exact picture of Aisha. Fudail stepped out of his estate, going to embrace Zahir. A moment he never thought he'd ever have. He has a family. Zahir, taken aback by Fudails reaction, gently returns the embrace. An uncle Zahir thought was a myth, and a nephew Fudail didn't know he wanted. The two spent the rest of the evening moving Zahir into his new room and bonding with each other.
That evening was the first one that didn't seem so quiet. But in a good way. The estate had a new life to it. It seemed almost brighter.
