Possibly Chekhov's most famous short story. Probably his best love story. It starts as a casual encounter in a seaside resort. It flourishes a couple weeks and seems to be extinguished. But the relationship blossoms quietly as the two people are apart, living their separate lives. It's a story about the nature of love, emotional attachment, the rigid structures of everyday life that get in the way of true love. Despite some autobiographical overtones, it is one of the few Chekhov stories where something DOES happen and people DO change. It has no climax, no judgment, and no tidy ending. But it is as close to a happy ending as one can get in this situation.

Translation by Avrahm Yarmolinsky, read from The Portable Chekhov