I squint my eyes, looking at my boyfriend through my lashes. I woke up before the alarm. Now that's a party, I tell myself. Psst, baby. It's Friday, you have one more day. He sighs, pulls the blanket over himself, and turns away. Then I hear that voice that warms my soul. Toots, are you making coffee? Fine, but you're taking me out for something sweet tomorrow. When I get up, a sharp pain takes over my hips. Ugh. On the way to the kitchen, time is racing. My hair turns white, covering my wool vest. My wrinkled hands tremble over the coffee pot. Ding. Grandma, are we coming in the evening? Do you have donuts?
Gabriela Rus
The silence of this place amplifies the scream I must swallow. I swim in it, and I know I will suffocate. The last shovel of dirt has been thrown and the earth has reclaimed what was rightfully its own. I bend down and take a chunk of frozen soil, I stuff it into the pocket of my black coat. I knead it with my fingers while people offer me words of comfort andpat me on the shoulder with sympathy. I can't look them in the eye. The blue sky above us is useless. My gaze is stuck on the still-empty grave next to the freshly occupied in. The next one in line.
Arthur Ianoși
I learned to take the elevator to Heaven. As I ascended, I felt my soul getting larger. And larger. And the elevator stopped. You know that feeling when you get stuck between floors? I panicked, thinking my soul was heavy. I opened the door to let some of it out, and to my surprise, I saw a bunch of people hanging like in the old days when the buses were full and the latecomers clung to the pole with half their bodies hanging out. I told them nicely. Either take the next one or come in. It's getting cold inside.
(Translated by Laurențiu-Gabriel Niculae / 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.