The Only Thing That Matters

Mirela A. Nica
She had learned to value the journey itself more than the destination. Each year, she would arrive at a place she had never been to on the map of her heart, but the cities she passed through were circled multiple times with a red pen. Shame, Disgust, Fury, Hatred, Love, Fear, Surprise-she had visited them all. And now, where to? she wondered as the syringe searched for the hidden vein in broad daylight. An overdose of disappointments had numbed her pain. The colours of autumn raced through her eyes. The city of dreams was just a needle's throw away.
 
 Silvia Ștefan
After three heavy days, I finally sighed. The dear man has been wrapped in soil and now lies in the world below. In the depths. I felt like I had lost a piece of myself. I'm still looking for it. It will be hard to live without it. I lean over the fresh mound of soil and think about how I will sleep in my bed tonight. Someone else will be cold from now on. Every bit of my helplessness stings like hell. Could I have done more? Two shivering turtle doves watch me. Go home, can't you hear? There's nothing left to do here. Go. I blow into my hands, rub my palms together. I'll stay a little bit longer.

Florina Hegedüs
The sun is sprawled across the golden leaves in my garden. It's as if there are no wars in the world. It's that peaceful. I only see myself from the chest down. I hear my voice speaking to the dog, but I don't see it. I don't see my eyes, to see how I see with them. I think that's why we have legs, to search for ourselves. And we have hands to rest our head in our palms. The thoughts inside it. I close the gate and I'm on the street. Another day when I will wander the city alongside other people. It's like a game. To search for yourself all your life. To know yourself. An endless game. It's really beautiful.

(Translated by Alexandra-Ecaterina Radu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)