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A worthwhile 'arrangement,' wrong guy/right city, reflections from marriage
This week's prompt: Shared memories

Hi friends,
Welcome to Connect x3. I hope you enjoy this week's stories — told from New York, Detroit and Memphis about a worthwhile 'arrangement,' discovering the wrong guy but right city, and reflections from a marriage.
Connect soon,
Katie
This week's 3:
A worthwhile arrangement:
“What's your house?” the girl enquires. "Ravenclaw!" the boy exclaims with a touch more enthusiasm than he ought to at 29 years old. But he is relieved to hear the girl chime "me too." And so the conversation begins. The boy is now rambling on as if his life depended on it, spouting whatever he thinks might grab the ears and the eyeballs of this girl. Call it his greatest hits. The boy intentionally misses his block but claims otherwise. The girl suggests he may as well walk her to her apartment a few blocks away. The boy obliges with a thudding chest. Five blocks, a minute a block. That leaves our protagonists with 10 minutes of conversation.
They get to her building and look at each other for just a fraction. "Well, hopefully I'll see you around in the gym again,” the boy murmurs. The girl smiles and nods. The boy turns and takes two steps before doing an about-face. "What's your name again, if you don't mind me asking?” The girl laughs and responds. The moment comes to pass, the boy bids goodnight and slowly begins to walk alone with his thoughts. The full-scale of the possibilities of that encounter dawns on him slowly but scorches his thoughts by the time he reaches the corner. Now he doubles back at a full pelt and looks across the glass doors to the elevators of her building. But the girl is nowhere to be seen. The boy doesn't quite believe in fate. In fact he is a proponent of Murphy's Law. The wave of euphoria has now crashed full force against the rocky shores of regret and there's nary a boat in sight.
An hour earlier…
The boy is tiredly staring at his screen. He comes here every night around the same time, sits on the exact same stool and places his belongings in exactly the same place on the marble stall. This is the only time he can eke out from his day to prepare for his MBA applications that are due in a couple months. But the day is exhausting and his mind is jaded. The girl walks into the gym, the boy looks up and their eyes meet. He is sitting in the perfect spot for the geometrical arrangement of the sight lines to take shape. The girl scampers on and the boy starts to hammer on the keyboard with furious concentration.
2 hours later…
The boy is still dazed and staring at the ceiling overhead. The sleep comes in fits, and his mind is still muddled with what had transpired earlier. Was the girl being polite and making small talk (she wasn't) or did she actually fancy him for some odd reason (she did). An idea begins to take shape, the eyelids begin to get heavy, and as he starts to drift off to sleep, he tells himself he cannot take the regret and pledges to salvage the remnants of possibilities as best he can.
A day later…
The boy is at an apartment complex on 81st Street. A box of artisanal chocolates, an envelope (with a much-too verbose a note inside with his correct contact information) and a single blue flower rests on a table-top in the lobby. The boy checks the arrangement one last time and hurries back out with his friend who came along for some much-needed fortitude. A brown guy staking out a love interest is definitely grounds for concern. But it's much less so if he brings along a white girl as his accomplice. At least, that was his reasoning. And now the deed is done. Let the impatience and anxiety take hold in place of hope.
Two days later…
The phone buzzes. It's a text from an unknown number. There's a picture of the arrangement that he had left yesterday in the lobby of the girl's apartment. Underneath it a single word…”Hi!”
- Fizi Yadav, New York
Wrong guy, right city:
When I lived in Atlanta, I met a guy on an elevator. He later flew me up to Detroit for a visit. I didn’t fall in love with him, but I did fall in love with the city.
Later, I included it in my job search and after receiving offers at two companies, I moved there.
Eight months later, after not sharing with the guy that I’d moved to the city, my phone rang. I picked up... “Did you move to Detroit?”
- Chinonye Akunne, Detroit
Hers and his after 23 years of marriage:
In 1994, a young couple in love got married in Memphis. Twenty-nine years, two kids, multiple animals, and many adventures later, they were reflecting on Valentine’s Day 2023.
Her point of view:
You do know it is hard to go on this Valentine's date with you in a car that smells like a locker room on the run from the deodorizing police, don't ya?
Your breath also needs a facelift, so to speak. Do you know that a toothbrush can be used more than once a week and the paste goes on the bristles?
If you lift up your arm in the shower, the green mold growing under there may stop from reaching your leg. If not, gangrene will set in eventually, and we will not be able to take romantic long walks. You do get this, don't you honey?
Crunching down on your meal like that will alarm the neighbors. Please chew with your mouth closed.
Please God, give me strength in grace, as I did indeed say, ‘yes’ at the altar. This white knight is my valentine on a daily basis. My heart grinds its gears to stay in love with him. Yet at the time of our vows, you see, I was blinded by the love of Cupid's arrow which must have been flying off target as I married a moron.
His point of view:
You tolerate my smells, my chews, my crude untimely inappropriate comments on romantic jogs, and my dragon-pit breath. Your strength in grace is what separates us apart. You, my dear, do not miss the mark!
I love that you are my valentine, but for now I must go and fart. Join me?
- Dan Haddow, Memphis
Editor's Note: Not only did Chinonye, the author of this week's second story, find a job and build a life in Detroit, but she also built her own successful business. Inspired by her Nigerian roots, ILERA Apothecary is a luxury body and skincare company that uses plant-based ingredients to create a range of practical, gender-neutral products.
This week's prompt: Shared memories
What are some of the memories you share with people (or animals) you love or have loved?
I'd love to hear from you, and I in fact need your help. To keep this newsletter going and this community growing, I'm reliant on subscribers like you to submit their own short stories about moments of connection they've experienced.
It's a simple process:
Think of a moment of connection you've experienced — it doesn't have to be recent, and it doesn't have to be related to the weekly prompt.
Jot it down — in your head, on a piece of paper, in your phone, wherever. No need to get fancy or long, and those who consider themselves to be amateur writers (or not writers at all) preferred ;)
Click the button below to send your story, and leave the rest to me!
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