It didn't work, next month we'll try another scheme, he told me. I live incrementally, I carry my hope and despair from month to month. I see them outside the clinic. The baby dog and the baby human. The baby blows the whistle. Red cheeks, frozen fingers. The puppy's sitting on the mat, good watch. I walk on, tears of rage and helplessness in my eyes. The gray city around me is falling apart. I'm in a green courtyard, the baby has left its whistle and has come to nestle in my belly. The fur ball cuddles happily beside me.
Alexandra Buhudini
At the windows of her eyes, two thoughts are resting on her elbows. At the windows of his eyes she shines. They both look at the hillside and listen to the story of the sunrise, sung by a singer. Grandma's heart smells of death and myrrh. She runs her timeless hand through his curls, and he knows that it is not for nothing that they planted the hawthorns at the foot of the cross. When I go out of this world, do not mourn me, Blackie. At the windows of his eyes, tears are pricking. Later they'll troop over the most beautiful love story.
Aurelian Țolescu
The morning roll call was a key moment of the day, marked by military discipline and sobriety. The curly-haired, wiry, scruffy-looking hairy one lurked behind a bush and wagged his tail at the appearance of the Commander with a grave look on his face. At the same time, the little girl appeared, a clean and cute little dog. Behind the Commandant's back, the Hairy One went to the bitch and brought her right in front of us, averted from the chief's gaze. When the mating was in full swing, we all burst out laughing. The commander didn't forgive us but we saw two happy puppies.
(Translated by Victor Albei / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.