After the earthquake, people chose to leave the place where the ground was starting to shake out of nowhere. They could no longer in the uncertainty that make its' way into their souls like a wild animal ready to bite out of their lives. The city is nothing but a cemetery made out of crashed walls and memories buried under the broken bricks. For two decades, I remained with a broken leg under a wooden block. Then, one day, I felt a pair of delicate hands brushing the dust off of my shoulders. I woke up after the first key. Now, I am breathing Bach on a stage, right under the spotlight.
(Translated by Alma Teodora Miron / 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.