Agnosia

Vlad Mușat
A wooden board with some figurines placed on it. In front of me, a man is thinking. Beside me, people are imitating us. The man across from me presses the timer. That click reminds me of school, of the sound of a pen, of the anxiety I felt during the math exam. I return to the present, confused but happy that the next move will be checkmate. Angela, what is that lunatic doing, waving his hands in the air? I heard he was a great conductor, so we must be the orchestra. Aha. Well, it's your turn to change his diaper.
 
 Ana Ludușan
I turn to my grandmother; she's cutting her clothes off with scissors-clothes I changed an hour ago, white, dried in the wind and scented with basil. She's lost in her own world. I can't imagine life without her. She took me in her arms straight from my mother's womb, warmed me when I was cold, comforted me when I was afraid. She happily continues cutting the fabric from her body. What are you doing, mother? I'm preparing your dowry for when you get married. When she died, from the strips she had cut, I wove my grandmother's face and placed the tapestry in my childhood home.
 
 Alex Caragian
He puffs on his pipe and blows toward the ceiling, as if trying to smoke something out up there. He raises his hand to his mouth again to take another drag but instead strokes his chin. The pipe is gone. He inhales deeply, lips pursed. He stares at the stranger for a few moments, then rolls his eyes. The man looks around frantically, searching for the pipe that the other had just been holding moments ago. He watches as the stranger exhales smoke, as if his lungs had caught fire. He blows smoke back at him. In the black haze, a hole appears-through which he sees himself in the stranger's place.

 
(Translated by Andreea Maria Liceanu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)