The first to go to Heaven was grandma. There, she saw dust on the shelves, she brushed it off and a soft rain fell down on me while I was secretly mourning her. She put up blue morning glories like St. Peter's eyes, I can see them on a clear sky. She hung tassels by the stove for angels to play with, and sometimes they drop them in the form of comets. Grandma faces eastward and God lights up her face with golden, tickling rays. To recognize Heaven in the sky, you must first live it on Earth in your heart.
(Translated by Eleonora Manea / 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.