The story goes like this. We knew each other forever, and we were married for a year when she began stumbling over everything. And dropping things. You've married a klutz, she said. At night, she would fall asleep with her head on my chest. She had a restless sleep. I would kiss her forehead, and she would calm down. I loved her laughter, her madness, how ordinary she was. I loved what she made of me since she gave me her all. In the last trimester of pregnancy, I learned she was sick and her birth would be deadly. I'll have the C-section, she said. Ssst. I'll wake up the little one. She sleeps with her head on my chest.
Ciprian Apetrei
She hadn't come down from the library with a single window in a while. He brought her trays with coffee and cookies, then she painted in silence. His looking at her with affection made her loosen up a little. His patience won her trust. She tried to find the right colour. On a rainy day with the sun peeking through, the coffee was dark blue. The princess tasted it, closed her eyes, and all the wounds of her soul sealed off. They came down together. Their dance brought joy to the whole kingdom. Since then, the trees and clouds have had this colour.
Carmen Tot
Using some rakes for children, crafted by our grandparents, we gathered the rusty leaves in a soft mound under the big nut tree. We called that place "the beyond". One day, we began to climb from one world to another, passing by the palace of dragons. Meanwhile, the fearful kids stayed behind. They grew smaller and tense as they watched us climbing. Then we jumped. We were the fruits of October in check red clothes tearing through the air and plunging into wonder. It was the first jump in a life that didn't want us to succeed.
(Translated by Alin Sescu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.