When I grow up I want to be a forester. That's probably the feminine. Not to have a rifle and a wide belt, but to pick moss wearing heeled shoes, in a shirt, to rage through the leaves and my hair to be forest green, to dance with wolves and laugh with lynxes at the world's foolishness, to eat raspberries with bears and hug trees, to grow long arms, to be able to take everything to my chest. And in. let the wind be my friend and the light be my coat, not my opponent. But for now I'm little, I can't have idols. Only ideals.
Carmen-Ecaterina Ciobâcă
I didn't see him often, but when it happened I was happy. Tall, athletic, trim, he sipped indifferently from his whisky glass, looking over our heads. I dreamed of him holding me, longed to see him over and over again. One day he was wrapped in cigarette smoke and gone. I saw him again the other day on a park bench: a little old man brought from behind, with puffy cheeks and wandering eyes. He was preparing his cot from a few blankets. I moved on. There was a time when I wanted to be like him. In the meantime, I became like my mother.
Florentina Enache
You could barely see his head, a little over the doorknob. Are you at home? he asked in a whisper. I am, come in, I've got something good: the strawberries are ripe. He crept into the courtyard and watched her with the attention of a big, enchanted man. His eyes twinkled like little stars. Have you eaten anything? No, I was in a hurry to come, but I waited for you to get out of the house. Would you like some stew? I'll have some. Listen, when I marry you, you'll have to make me some of that. When she grew up, he didn't look her in the eye; he just blushed and murmured: Have you arrived at home?
(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.