Oana Jindiceanu
In the age of telephones, I look for you in the streets, hoping to meet you by chance. It's a game. Or maybe I'm losing my mind. I look myself in the windows and wonder who this woman is. I tick off the standard answers and there's still something left. Something soft and sticky, like cotton candy.Something that even if slips through my fingers somehow sticks to the back of my hand and I find myself moving my hands - contemporary dance, no other - trying to catch this thing. It's mine, but I haven't seen it before and I don't know what to do with it. That's why I'm looking for you.
Andreea Mihaela Murariu Moldovanu
Yesterday, around 6 o'clock, I found myself in front of the discreetly lit shop window. It was a chic shop. The jewelry looked divine. And me.With matching hat, vintage earrings, fine leather gloves. Firstly, I carefully looked at two amethyst stones. I found them beautiful and sad.At the ruby I lingered longer. I remembered my first kiss. Then the last one. The string of pearls convinced me.Impeccable workmanship confirmed its value. I went home with all of them. Tonight I lose myself again in solitude. Sad and flawless.
Titela Durnea
I put the first brick, heavy, to block the cries from beyond the door. Then it got easier. When I didn't send the love letter. When Vlad invited Sonia to dance. When Irina and Dora betrayed me. When I wrote the first poem. When I went to the faculty chose by my parents. When I made love without loving.When I said yes and the soul screamed no. When I signed the divorce. And the Wall continued to go up. Today, perched on it, I reach out the hand of a suspicious Ana, well hidden. Come on, Ana, let's catch the wave.
(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.