Florentina Ghițescu
Grandma, aren't you afraid of death? Why would I be afraid? I've loved life. In the morning, the dew would wet my feet as I went to tend the animals, the sun would burn my arms while I harvested the grain, the smell of freshly baked bread filled my nose. I love everything on this earth. I don't think there's anyone who wouldn't want just one more day to look at the sky, to watch the clouds chase each other. But I know that when my time comes, your grandpa will be there waiting for me. Now come, let's have some doughnuts with milk.
Dana Popescu
Tripping over his pants that were too long, the little bundle of a boy cursed bitterly at the rooster he had thought he'd escaped from. If only you'd spin away to where mama and daddy went, I wouldn't miss you one bit, he muttered through tears, wrestling with the latch on the chicken coop. No egg for you today, Codiță-maybe we'll be luckier tomorrow. With the trembling puppy in his small arms, he returned to the house from which his granny-the only one who'd ever loved him-had left at dawn to rest on angel wings.
Alina Ilie
In the old man's faltering steps lay his balance. He groaned as he climbed the last few stairs, the wood creaked behind him like it was on fire, yet it held, carrying him into the heart of the attic. With a breath that sounded like a sigh, he collapsed onto his back. It seemed he wouldn't open his eyes again-until his frown sparked one last flicker of light. From the base of the stairs, a boy called up to him: Grandpa, they're going to scold me-they said I'm not supposed to leave you alone. The old man smiled with the contentment of someone who had done his will, his gaze fixed on the patched ceiling, stitched together with strips of sky.
(Translated by Ioana Levîrdă / 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.