I'm writing about the man who used to chop wood in the village. The wood was useful to people here. People used his woods to build houses, burn charcoal, and for domestic use. I chose this topic because one of my friends was a chop wood cutter. I want my readers to know the way of living in the village where I live.

In a small village nestled in the Atlas mountains in Morocco, there lived an old man named Jack. At ninety years old, he was known for his remarkable strength and endurance. Every morning Jack would venture into the forest to chop wood for the village. He'd swing his ax with precision and power, splitting logs with ease, his muscles rippling beneath his worn, blue flannel shirt.