Shouting Across the Street
He was the hot neighbor. My balcony faced his across a narrow London street. He was a Welsh man on his 10th year in the city; I was a Colombian woman on my 10th day. He was about to move flats; I was still settling into my student accommodation. I shouted over and invited him to a party, fulfilling a friend’s dare. He politely declined because he had elsewhere to be. Later that night, he advertised himself from his balcony with a bottle of tequila. Then David came into my flat and never left. — Lia Santis De Emes
An Angel Onstage
In my darkest days after my daughter Alice died, friends surprised me with Dolly Parton tickets. My camera was no match for Dolly’s rhinestone-riddled suit. In pictures, only a pure white outline appeared onstage. I thought, “She’s an angel who cannot be captured on film!” Eventually, I put the camera down and danced with my friends. When Dolly passed away last week, I searched through the old images I thought were no good. Now I see them differently — evidence of friends dragging me from the dark to behold a woman who reflected our light back to us. — Melissa Monroe
My Quiet Jackpot
In Las Vegas and newly sober, I was alone in a low-cash hotel. I read, made calls, took baths and smoked in the bathtub. There was a party on the hotel floor, and I knew if I set foot outside, I would get drunk. For the first time ever, I didn’t want that. I took a piece of paper and chewed-up gum and stuck a sign to my door that read, “Shh! Baby sleeping.” I didn’t sleep like a baby that night. But I did go to bed sober and wake up sober. In Las Vegas, I won. — Amina Sarraf
Hoping for New Growth
Three days before we ended our three months together, he bought me flowers for the first time. But even a bouquet of yellow roses couldn’t fix all the red flags. For 72 hours, the vase bloomed with possibility, asking, “Could we make it work?” But after the breakup, the flowers wilted, mocking me with what could have been. I couldn’t stand to put them in the garbage, so I brought them to a community garden for composting. Because even though our relationship wasn’t right, it still enriched my life, just as I hoped those petals would nourish the soil. — Caroline Welch
See more Tiny Love Stories at nytimes.com/modernlove. Submit yours at nytimes.com/tinylovestories.
Want more from Modern Love? Watch the TV series; sign up for the newsletter; or listen to the podcast on iTunes, Spotify or Google Play. We also have swag at the NYT Store and two books, “Modern Love: True Stories of Love, Loss, and Redemption” and “Tiny Love Stories: True Tales of Love in 100 Words or Less.”
The post Tiny Love Stories: ‘The Hot Neighbor’ appeared first on New York Times.
