I leave the store with loaded bags, tired and annoyed. Fuck all of us. As I get home, the little one greets me: arms up. Where's your dad? He's sleeping. I get angry and swear in my mind, I drop the bags on the tile to cool off. I raise my hands to get rid of the child too, he shoots me with excitement. I see the happiness and innocence in his eyes. He's a good kid. Fuck, I say it out loud, the Nutella jar broke. He makes a long face. He's glaring hate at me. I messed it up. I could just see him in ten years at the hearing. How did all this get started? Well
(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)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficţiuni Reale.