Tiny Love Stories: “The problem was that it smelled really good”

Modern love in miniature, with reader-submitted stories no longer than 100 words.

Group chat

My high school friends are starting a group text again. Basic holiday wishes evolve into encouragement for professional achievements and then recommendations for art, music and books. We send memes, images, Spotify links. Most of us haven't seen each other in nearly two decades, and yet we remember the smell of each other's childhood homes, the way NPR always played. There is a solidity here, not only in our enduring friendships, but in the reminder that we existed before all of this – the babies, the professional ambitions, the illnesses. And so far we have survived all of this. — Kathleen Donahoe

ImageParticipants in the group discussion (I'm on the far left) at our school's drama awards ceremony in 2000. We had just participated in a production of "The Three Musketeers."

All together

Leaving one of the countless oncology appointments that year, I asked my parents how they were coping. Mom looked at me seriously and gave me a smile. “Well, if your dad has to have cancer, at least I have it too,” she said. Without missing a beat, my dad joked, “After 35 years, I guess the universe still wants us to do everything together.” » I looked at them. They turned around. We burst out laughing. At that moment, I realized that when life hits you hard, boundless love and a lot of dark humor make all the difference. — Misha Hooda

ImageMy mother and father, three years after their initial diagnosis, are enjoying cherry blossom season in Central Park.

Parallel Paths

Mom and I unknowingly floundered in the dating pool around the same time. . Her as a widow, at 48, and me as a newly out gay man, at 24. Dating (or rather possible rejection) terrified me. But I had learned to be courageous from the best: Mom sacrificed everything for a chance at the American dream. She kept our family together in the face of Dad's grueling illness and death. She loved me unconditionally, even though her faith made me irredeemable. She always found a way to smile. She has a boyfriend now and I have a husband. — Roberto López Jr.

ImageMe and my mother on vacation at South Padre Island in Texas in December 2022.

First impression

He was late. Her blouses were wrinkled. His hair had that dent, the one that says, "I'm divorced and I fell asleep on the couch." It looked like he must have smelled bad. It’s my first day on the job and I’m already going to have to lay someone off, I thought. "You are late,...