He loved her. Even though she was carrying someone else's child. He stood by her at birth. She got sick, he took care of her. Like a baby. That morning, she kept her hand on his leg. He put his palm over it, stifling the same pain. He picked her up but he couldn't feel her anymore. The new-born started crying. He learned to wrap, to tell stories, to braid hair, to give boy advice. Now, he'll be a grandpa. Take care, he told his son-in-law, many know how to conceive a child, but are clueless about becoming a father.
Carmen Tot
You're not ready? If I cant have kids by the time you're ready, I swear I'm leaving you. Give it to me, doc. Unfortunately, it's too late. It may sound like a cliché, but time waits for no one. But you can adopt, my dear. I went back to our home, he looked at me questioningly, without understanding and I left him. He moved into the other room, and for years I lived out my revenge. He still hasn't left. I still haven't adopted. He sits in the doorway with the lady who lives across the street, and they talk for two hours. We say hello in the morning. At night we each go to our rooms.
George Dometi
I'm a happy father. Two boys and a girl. But things changed after a cut-throat fight with my best friend - I still have the wound in my chest as proof - who, in a fit of anger, hit me with a: you shoot blanks. I wasn't offended then, I only had to kill him, but then doubt started to take root in my mind. Now I'm at a check up, waiting for the results. Here comes the doctor. Final result: seasonal erectile dysfunction and infertility. That means I can't get it up in prison. But at least my beloved not-children come visit me.
(Translated by Bianca Ioana Prisecaru / 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 Ficțiuni Reale.