13

I wrote you a letter for every year we haven't been together. A summary of all the joys and pain we haven't lived together. Everything I would have preferred to upset us/to rock our world together, to use us up heavily and unequally, in the rhythm of the rounded, blue ink-scented letters. I have never sent them for fear of a delay response and because I was worried that he could have forgotten me. Do you remember my beautiful handwriting? I'm at the post office. Thirteen stamps, please. Return the letters downstairs, on Hope Street.

(Translated by Iulia-Teodora Urea / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)