Soap Bubbles

Ana Maria Dobre-Nir
Mommy, look how big this one is. It's colourful too. Mom, please, look. Why aren't you laughing? Isn't it pretty? Mom, do you want to watch me cross my eyes? I'll make you laugh at some point, I won't give up. You're always telling me that I'm the funniest. Why aren't you laughing now? Did something happen? The woman scooped her up and kissed her head. Look, I'm laughing for you, she said to her as they started a little dance together. Mom, promise me that, for you, I'll always be the funniest girl in the world. That you'll let me make you laugh out loud. 

Fabiola Stoi
When he was little and his parents were fighting, he would lock himself in the bathroom and wash his hands under a strong stream of water. So he couldn't hear. He washed them thoroughly, as if universal peace depended upon the cleanliness of his hands. As if within all of that soapiness, fermented from the slippery dance of palms, and in its melting under the water, Silence itself would move in. Now he kneads a piece of pink cloud with his hands and gazes at the neighbourhood, hit by wrath. How good it would be to hear his folks arguing behind the door. But the sky is full of wails and sirens. 
 
 Carmen-Ecaterina Ciobâcă
Hurry up. We're late. There's no time to play on the carpet. We have to go. Yes, you must take your hat. It's cold. That's it. Give me a hug to last us all day. Love ya. Between two clicks, my mind goes to you. Are you eating? Are you taking a nap? Are you happy? I find you outside, among the buzzing of children. You jump into my arms, I breathe you in. In the meantime, it seems like you've grown a little. Our moments - soap bubbles which round their perfection in the bitterness of autumn air. Then they pop. 

(Translated by Diana Georgiana Rădăcineanu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)