At the top of the hill is the 500-year-old Unitarian church. I go there sometimes to gaze at the expanse of land that belongs to a single neighbour. An old walnut tree with four trunks shelters some tombs from immemorial times. I lean on them and look to the right, the forest opens to me. To the left, the church's wall loses more and more stones and bricks. Today I found out, the walnut will be cut. On the place where my dead rest, the landowner wants to build a swimming pool.
(Translated by Ecaterina Buşe / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
*Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficţiuni Reale.