We placed the chair with the embroidered, silk handkerchief and the tea set right next to the yellow sweet clover bushes. Lina was gracefully pouring the golden liquid in the cups that we picked up holding our pinkies in the air, as required by the etiquette. We took little sips, swaggering, full of importance. Every detail crosses my mind, looking at the picture that keeps the moment alive. This is the finest, German porcelain, I hear as if dreaming. And it's like I actually feel on my lips the texture of the red plastic cups, the tea exuding steam smelling like sweet yellow clover.
Titela Durnea
She won't achieve anything. Because you raised her like this, as if she were made of porcelain. Figure it out, her husband said and left slamming the door, leaving behind a trace of swelter. Yes, she knew that she coddled her, thinking of her own busy childhood. But she'll work it out. Ada, the newly bride, is in the doorway, giving her a sweet smile from behind the bag full of shirts that need to be ironed. I'll see you at dinner, mom. Honey, I'm busy with the inventory these few days. But I found a good restaurant, five minutes away from you. And a practical course, on auto-management.
Dorin Vasile
I like fine, delicate women. Just like Cora, the saleswoman with a lock on her heart. I have been buying trinkets for a year, only for a few second of conversation. I have tried everything: subtle compliments, smart remarks, melancholic looks. She just smiles politely, give me the exact change and goes back to her duties, as if I weren't even there. One day, an ox-like guy comes into the shop. He rests heavily on the counter and asks her directly: When we are going out for coffee? I just stand back, lonely, holding the porcelain cup I had just bought.
(Translated by Cristina-Paula Grosu / 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.