1400. Target in sight. The woman who burned down her home for insurance. The smell of burnt sugar. She forgot her mother with diabetes in the house. She is sitting at a table in a cafe. She sips some milk. The white liquid turns red. 1402. Target in sight. Man. Hundreds of little girls sold. Chest made sieve. Six bullets went through the greasy flesh. Chaos ensued. Exit time 80 seconds. I go down the stairs of the building with the garbage bag. Hello, auntie Anuța, the bodyguard of the bullet-riddled man greets me, didn't you see anyone coming down? No.
Florina Hegedüs
I am a scroll of palimpsests forgotten over the years in a cedar chest decorated with lapis lazuli. I used to go out on holidays. They were getting bored with me, I was tiring them, they couldn't distinguish all my letters. Once the fine hand of a scribe wanted to rewrite me. It was hard for him, I was still going out of myself. And again I ended up in the chest. Not read by anyone. I was dozing when the lid lifted and dozens of eyes stared at me. They took me carefully, I'm dehydrated, withered. They put me in another box. Roomy but cold, they call it a computer. And I was read.
Ioana Clara Enescu
Your first fever. You stuff your little fists into your pink gums as if you already knew you were your best medicine. Your first tooth fell out. I reminded myself that loss is often a gain in disguise. You wrote my first birthday card with an upside-down N like a hair clip where my first white hair appeared. I blinked twice and high school was ready. You're going to college. You call me everyday. Sometimes I don't answer you. I have to get used to solitude. When you read these lines, you will have known it too.
(Translated by Ioana Andreea Radu / 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.