The Bell Rings

Dan Banu
The bear was furious. Instead of gathering some food to have something to nibble on during hibernation, he had to sit with his paws behind his back. The fox wasn't interested in school either, since all the chickens were in preschool. The wolf was the only one who agreed, on the condition that he'd receive a hot meal at noon instead of yogurt. Only a capercaillie walked back and forth, muttering, I sense some type of gender identity crisis here; you're clearly not my type. But what's that sound? The bell's ringing, hissed the cunning snake.

Adina Drag
This city yearns for love. Secretly. At night, when shadows bring life into its old walls, I park close to its heart and start walking by the river. And I hear them. There are hundreds. Maybe more. Voices telling their story wordlessly. They emerge from the citadel, moving along narrow, cobblestone streets. Under the halo of a streetlamp in the Square, an old man counts his loose change. A coin rolls its time by my feet. I pick it up, and a crystal clear sound breaks the silence. The old man is a child again and smiles.
 
 Ioana Clara Enescu
God bless, be healthy, good luck, says the grandfather. Byeee, replies the boy at the gate, his farewell stretching out, reaching over his grandfather's temples, kissing the snowy white of his hair. And the old man's gaze becomes a road, down which the boy leaps, and roams over hills, mountains, valleys, seas, and oceans. The child searches for answers to questions never spoken, always looking forward, not stopping even a moment, until one day, distracted, he stumbles against the corner of the moon and falls, right by the gate which his grandfather's arms open with a gentle chime.

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