That's all I can see. Ursa Major without its cub. Or something like that. Sometimes there is nothing to be seen, because it's cloudy. Other times, on clear days, the sun makes hot circles on my face and I can't keep my eyes open. It's hot now and I can barely breathe. I'm thinking about the sparse raindrops on top of the grass blades, in the morning. There is nothing else to be seen. But what is there to see through a pipe through which I'm supposed to breathe until someone digs me out after my parents pay the ransom? I hope.
(Translated by Bianca-Andreea Rîmboacă / 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 Ficțiuni Reale.