October

Carmen-Ecaterina Ciobâcă
She sees him at the window - a torch in the dark. If it weren't falling one by one, he'd think time had frozen. Andrei enters the house, he doesn't even look at her. He goes into his room and shuts the door. The smell of his baby skin is something from another life. The cursed middle season has come, when you have everyone around, but you're actually alone. The phone buzzes. It's Mom. She's waiting for her at the hospital. In despair, she steps outside. She takes off her nightshirt. She embraces the tree. Tears run down its rough bark. Just like him, she would want to shed her body, too.

Răzvan Dițescu
October has arrived, bringing with it the scent of mash and quinces. With cool mornings and bright afternoons that urge you to step outside for a stroll. Last night, a golden-ruby blanket was laid over the damp ground in the park. Kids, both small and big, are out hunting for chestnuts. A couple in love walks hand in hand, their laughter intertwining with the rustling leaves along the path. A stolen kiss turns into a promise, and every exchanged glance is a reaffirmation. On a bench, chin resting on a cane, I watch the spectacle of life unfold.
 
 Ana Ludușan
She looks through the brown walnut leaves at the reddish sunset. She closes her eyes; her village was different in her childhood. Spring was dripping with green, with hard work, with joy. Summer, scorching heat. They're waiting to use the thresher. She watches golden drops flow into sacks. They've harvested 3 hectares of wheat and end up with a sack of chaff. The rest goes to the state quotas. It's a warm autumn, abundance on the hills, poverty in the barns. Her brother plays Vivaldi on the violin while she climbs the walnut tree and cries out of fear. How will we survive the winter? Their father assures them: it's going to be alright.

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