Our story was like an inverted haiku. An anti-love story. Five roads to Vatra Dornei and as many, with the godfather, to Ilva-Mică. Seven books read on the train until I reach you. Do you remember how much I cried at the Spring Ritual? Five times of getting back together and one parting. You didn't want to believe in tattoos, but you were looking for signs. I couldn't tell you, but I lost your cross. I marked it on my hand a few years ago, not to have you but never to lose you either.
(Translated by Elena Creţu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
*Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficţiuni Reale.