I Donate My Body to Science

Monica Ciurea
What's that, a window, what a light, ah, there's the desk, there was a paper, uh, I mean I wrote something about myself, I want them to study it, what I live, where's that paper? Who are you? Have you seen my paper? You're Luiza, right? Mom, it's me, Ana, do you recognize me? Ana? Ana who? Oh, yes, the nurse, you came to pick me up, I wanted, I mean I signed, to be taken to them when it's time, it won't be long now, but it's hard because I always forget, oh, here's that paper... Mom, have some water. Read it. Donate me, Ana, when I forget everything. They'll find a cure. At least you won't

Elena Fermuș
She was looking at her daughter for the last time. She was like an artificial flower that neither dies nor blooms. After all, beyond all science is God's will. Science could only bind its machines to her and make her a slave. To postpone the inevitable for a while. She decided not to let everything in her die. She didn't tell anyone, even the village school teacher would have jeered at her. She took her to the burial with a hole for a heart. She said to herself that He from above would tear off a piece of His heart and put it in her chest, to beat for her for eternity.
 
 Caterina Tudorache
Tița stormed into the bar-named dump. Vasile. I've told you three times I won't beat you anymore. The stout woman, to be delicate, pushed a skinny kid in front of him. What's this? Vasile blinked for the first time. Can't you tell? It's a child. Yes, silly. I know. Ours. And he's hungry. If you got out from under the table, everyone would see it's yours. You drunk. You should be studied to see how the earth can stand you. Two almost sober neighbors started crying. So if Vasile goes away to study, who will we drink with, Tița?

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