I had gotten used to holding God in my palm like a lucky coin and to say: "God help me" in tough times or a quick prayer before an exam; everything felt light and petty. When I received my first refusal, I stubbornly insisted on proving that I could handle my problems on my own. When things became impossible, I developed a kind of rebellion. When everything was lost, I suffered deeply. I didn't truly understand God's love until I became a mother and had to tell my children the same NO: painful, heavy, firm.
Tatiana Crețu
Mihăiță played in his grandparents' garden yesterday. In the evening, he dreamed that he was an explorer, so in the morning he searched the tool shed. He took a spade, but after a few attempts to be an archaeologist, he abandoned it. It was too heavy for him. He chose a well-sharpened hoe and then marked out a search perimeter on the ground. I will make a tunnel, the boy decided. The earth yielded easily under the rhythmic strikes of the hoe. How strong I am, Mihăiță rejoiced. Look, a lucky coin! Grandpa, I'm rich. The old man made the sign of the cross over the soldier's name.
Arthur Ianoși
Yesterday, I made myself disappear. I forgive you, Lord, for losing me with all the crazies you have to deal with. At the beginning, I searched for myself among the books I hadn't read. I wasn't there. Then, I checked hospitals, telling them it was an emergency, but they didn't find me. Then, I went through cemeteries. I didn't find my name on any tombstones, although every time I passed by a freshly dug grave, it smelled like me. Finally, I searched in churches. I saw my aura on the walls and an old woman pushing another. Die already. What's that? Die, damn you.
(Translated by Miruna Dumitru / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.