It starts with a uni initiative no one asked for.

“Digital Connection Week”—a thinly-veiled attempt from the Student Union to prove they’re fostering “interdisciplinary bonds” across departments. You sign up half out of boredom, half out of curiosity.

The rules are simple: No names beyond first. No photos. No socials. Just a student-assigned email address and a stranger with a keyboard.

You get your match on a Wednesday.

From:newt.thomas02@students.university.ac.uk.

Subject: Pen Pal Intro – Newt T.

The name is all you know. That, and the message waiting inside your inbox like a sealed envelope on a rainy windowsill.

⸻

Emailed to you:

“Alright. Well this is weird.”

“They said we’re not supposed to overthink this, so naturally, I’ve written and deleted this intro five times. Pen pal projects are a bit odd, don’t you think? Like volunteering to make small talk with a stranger in slow motion.”

“Hi. I’m Newt. Second-year biology student. Partial to biscuits and terrible at first impressions. They say we’re supposed to talk like we’ve never met—which we haven’t—but that feels a bit serial killer-y when you think about it. So…cheers to that.”

“I don’t really know what you’re meant to say in these. Hobbies? Fears? Childhood trauma in bullet points?”

“I’m mostly doing this because my course group chat bullied me into it. That, and I thought it might be nice to have someone to ramble at without having to make eye contact.”

“So, mystery person—what’s your degree in? Or, you know… tell me what animal you’d reincarnate as. That might say more about you anyway.”

“Alright, your turn. No pressure. But if you ghost me, I will pretend to be deeply emotionally wounded.”

—Newt

⸻

It’s supposed to be casual. A one-week experiment in communication. But something about the way he writes—like he’s trying not to care too much, and failing—sticks with you.

You read it once. Then twice. And then, without fully realising it, you’re opening a new draft.