Twelfth Night

Cristian Nedelcu
She couldn't sleep after her man had passed away. Her mind couldn't get rid of the gypsy's toothless smile. The soul is kept inside the dead man's chest. It's only after twelve nights that it separates from the body and ascends, she had told her while packing off her tarot cards. The croak of a raven paused her stream of thoughts. Birds don't sing at night, she told herself as heading towards the window. She saw him looking at her with those eyes that she had deeply loved once. She was petrified. It croaked one more time and flew away into the darkness.

Adina Drag
She was staring at the blood that had reached the gate through the curtains. She flinched. She shouldn't have been alive. Was he still alive? Baby, I'll come back and dance with you one more time. It had gotten dark eleven times since they took his body away, but every night she dreamed of him smiling and waving at her. Anger rose inside her like leavening dough, why didn't they stop? When the day was finally over, she saw Officer Pin out the window, stepping over death with his thick sole. It was her turn.
 
 Florentina Enache
Twelve times twelve years is a night in people's minds. First, it gets a little dark and sadness covers their hearts; then, asdarkness takes over, misunderstanding, worry, fear, wrath and madness eat them alive. The crack of dawn finds them broken, but the ones that are left feed on light and grow again: with joy, tolerance, trust, courage, kindness and wisdom. Ever since the master of chaos destroyed the counting, the number of nights has been lost and we can no longer decipher light. Where could we possibly be? And how?

(Translated by Cristina-Andreea Dobre / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)