I dreamed that I would be happy, that I would have a boat hollowed out of a tree trunk, with a sail made of white linen, like a woman's dress. I would walk along the silent shore, where tall palm trees would cheerfully accompany me and wave their palms from time to time. In the evening I would hide stars in the white sand, to discover their pirate treasures later in the day, and the wind would tell stories. Give me your hands faster, or I won't stay here all day to pick three cherries, an irritated voice shook me.
Vero Anttheia Teodoru
He woke up in a strange place. He didn't know who he was, he didn't know if he had a wife, children. They took him to a farm. He worked silently all day. They called him Arkhip, sometimes he answered. After a while he disappeared. He wandered into a town, picked him up off the streets and ended up in a shelter. He stared into space. They took him to a monastery. They called him Achim. He stood in front of an icon as if he saw something strange there. Otherwise, he observed the ordinance with sanctity. He spoke little. At night he searched inside himself trying to find himself somehow.
Gabriela Marinescu
The psychiatrist handed me the medical letter. Bipolar. Have the girls give you a round stamp. I get up, take the paper. Lips freeze into the smile I've practiced over the years. I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. They'll see I've been crying. He hands me a tissue. Don't forget your next appointment. I cross the threshold, just me in one piece. The little one, the eternally scared silly one, I left on the padded chair with her red nose. Let her talk about her frustrations until next month. I have a life to live.
(Translated by Miruna-Gabriela Flipache / 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.