The man in overalls was walking quickly. He had left work. His black, cracked, calloused hands were tenderly carrying a box with a doll inside it. He went inside the house and the little girl rushed over to him with excitement. He handed her the gift and dodged her hug. He put his arms behind his back. He smelled like garbage. Like the filth he cleaned up off the streets every day. He turned to go back to work. Tonight was still a ways away. The little girl came closer, took his hand and placed it on the porcelain cheek. I love you, daddy.
Dan Banu
Mr. Ionescu stepped into the living room and froze. Next to the glass coffee table, a woman was waiting for him on her knees. Her face was made of porcelain and her body made of cane, wrapped in a pink kimono, with yellow camellias printed on it, tied with an obi embroidered with pale green fern branches. When she saw him, she poured tea from the kawa into the shino cup and handed it to him. Taiyo Musume, he whispered. Ionescu-san, she clinked. He had always dreamed of meeting her one day. He smiled and raised his eyes to look at the empty frame of the painting called The Tea Ceremony.
Caterina Tudorache
He's mine. He's like nothing I've ever known. He cries and shakes his little arms. He's mine. I yelled for 3 hours, I thought I'd die from the pain. It was worth it. I finally see him. This small being, two palms long, is my child. Our child. The doctor asked me if I wanted to hold him. I'm exhausted, but I've waited 9 months for this moment. I caress him, crying. This little baby, with a skin so white and soft, is mine. He suddenly stopped crying. Aha, you know who I am. I am your mother. You are my new universe.
(Translated by Raluca Sălcianu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.