Nelson Ciotoi
The heavy steps, barely dragging through the dust, left behind a trail of shadow. It hadn't rained in a long time, and the spring mud had turned into a layer of fine powder. I hope she's home, the old woman said to herself when she spotted her eldest daughter's house. She struggled to open the heavy gate, and the massive dog in the yard nearly knocked her over. I told you to stay home, I was coming to give you your pills, the eldest daughter snapped. Her eyes filled with tears-she hadn't come for the pills, but because she was aching with longing.
Iulia Stavre
She felt an emptiness in her soul at the thought of her birthday. Another year brought no joy. Her husband and son, lifelong friends, hadn't answered her calls in a long time. One granddaughter was abroad, the other worked late. She hoped she'd visit over the weekend. If she was lucky, she'd bring the little ones too. Graceful and elegant in her velvet dress with burgundy lace trim, she entered the dining hall. The other elderly residents, the nurses, the doctor, her granddaughter, and great-grandchildren applauded. A surprise-on her 90th birthday.
Magdalena Daminescu
The days rolled downhill, slowly carving their way through the thickets of night that increasingly clouded her mind. Lately, only routine kept her grounded-otherwise, she'd even forget to eat. She hadn't managed to stand in a long time; the window was her only link to the world. Today, the sky changed color-there wasn't a single cloud. Who was this person who entered her room? He smiled at her, took her hand, and kissed it. It was him-she recognized him by his scent. He was hiding something behind his back, then showered her with a bouquet of snowdrops. Let's go home. Spring has come.
(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.