Groundhog Day

George Dometi
The waitress pours him coffee and takes the plates from the table. His empty plate with its pie-stained fork is placed on top of the untouched plate. As usual? the woman says to him. Yes, replies the man. Then he stands up, hands the one y to the woman and gets a slap across his bruised face in return. He leaves and gets into the car. He has been replaying for 6 months now the day of his daughter's accident when, after lunch, his little girl confesses she is pregnant, he rejects her, she slaps him, gets in the car and.

Monica Ciurea
Your day has come, beast. Carry them somewhere else, they'll knock down the block, the neighbours were yelling. The basses of that at the third floor were banging so hard that his windows and eardrums were rattling. The ram cats - about 30 pieces - of those at the second floor literally were literally relieving, that the concrete was soaking with stench and ammonia. At the first floor five girls and six boys, plus a grandmother dull of hearing were trundling. The ground floor was rented out by day for the brewery, by night for the club. Only the six tons of volume at four floor were bothering. And the mole from the books.

Monica Aldea
Tongue-tied and the Țârcovnic[1] are keeping themselves busy in the church garden and say their bitter after the church service. Do you work or complain, says Parson-the-hurried. How do you do?, lift up his head Tongue-tied. We carried the garbage and threw it over the fence at Nelu-the-Beast, the candles are melted and put on sale at a new price. We've arranged the more expensive icons in the showcase for the better-off parishioners. But you dig into complaining like a mole, my son. We've been digging the hills til the old cemetery. If we keep it up like this, the Parson thought, these two will dig up til Gethsemane Garden.

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