I look into her eyes and confirm that all is well. From the doorway, because walking to the bed is hard for me. Everything that starts, ends. She looks at me. She doesn't let me out of her sight for a second. I don't look down. I look her in the eyes. I come in without fear. I manage and lie down next to her. The nurses put two beds side by side. We gaze at each other and smile. That's how we met. Laughing, in a coffee shop. We laughed a lot. The key to youth. The doctor comes in and reconfirms. He's ready. And so are we. I go into her eyes. She goes into mine. Then we close them.
Monica Ciurea
The button that keeps my pert breasts fastened in the silk blouse snaps. My chest is constricted. I slip my round finger through the bare tab and stick my plastron palm on the memories. The eardrums are the ivories, Einaudi, Una Mattina. I flinch. From the corner of my eye, the black coat trails heavily at the end of the salon. I sniff. I hold my breath. Musk, tobacco and bergamot. One sleeve holds a stem. The white calla lily approaches. Miss Angi, you have a visitor. It's not him. So not yet. I fix the button. Done.
Nelida Holban
The coffee was boiling over, as it would when he made it, and so he cleaned the stove, put the dishes back and walked out in the hallway. He put on his coat and the clatter of keys on the table made him look at her. What are you doing? I'm leaving. Won't you forgive me? No. I will only forget you. I'm done with fake regrets, excuses and indifferences. Through thin-rimmed glasses, his gaze was sharp. Very well, as you wish, but just so you know, I'm not indifferent. Button you coat, it's cold enough to freeze your soul. That's not possible. You've destroyed it.
(Translated by Maria-Ilinca Darie / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by prof. dr. Nadina Vișan, Edited by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.