It comes a time when at some age, I'm having a very loudly spine. I'm tuning in acoustically when I have to get up from my chair. And yet, this is what many will write, I'm sure, it's too easy to intuit. To make the Infinity Column resonate, namely time itself, it seems to me an easy idea. That of a movie sounds even weaker. Do you want life to be the soundtrack of the universe? It's kitsch. Although, in my headphones, I can hear stars which are rising through a tight sky. Maybe I know nothing. Or maybe I begin to remember Heaven
Arthur Ianoși
I'm pure-blooded Oltenian. A rare animal who forgot to die, said the old man. When I was born, they did not give me a name, but people call me Constantin. You can find me in the nameless village, on the road to the graveyard, the second house on the right, always on the porch, throwing grains to the fowls. They are not even mine. The relatives of the dead left them to me. I'm a bell-ringer, I didn't tell you and it was great that I didn't. See that big post in the yard, the one where the goat is tied? If you stick your ear to it, you'll hear Brâncuși talking with God. Old man, you are lost.
Anca Socaciu-Man
He was waiting for the sunrise every day in the last twenty years. Trembling hands, long beard, deep wrinkles, perpetual nostalgia, the longing that ached consuming the soul of the old sailor. Far away, the memories floated nostalgically on the waves. He was the captain of the ship, young, traveling on the footsteps of the great adventurers. Now he was the adventurer. He got lost on an island. He had survived alone. He had even built himself a whistle. Notes written in the sand, I love you, Nora. He listened to the echo of the conch. I love you too, Ernest.
(Translated by Constantin Grigorescu / 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.