I loved each one of them. I climbed a spiral stair for the first one, eager to discover wonders at every step, tactile delights. For the second one I climbed down a ladder with seven stairs, then I fell waving my arms as if I was losing control, trying in vain to grab on anything else instead of the rose with thorns I received on my birthday. The next one built a ladder for me. It was a tiny ladder, so I could reach the top shelves where love was waiting for me, smiling. The other ones, and they were a lot, were clinging on the stairs adopted by my own self, step by step. They relished freedom.
(Translated by Roberta Maria Gulerez / 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.