The Neighbor's Goat

Elena Fermuș
Defendant, you are accused by your neighbor of intentionally letting your goat onto her property, where it destroyed her tulip crop, which she brought from the Netherlands. What do you have to say about this? The little goat, Your Honor, not the goat, because she's so delicate, you wouldn't believe it. And she loves flowers. You see, it was her birthday and I didn't have time to buy her a nice bouquet. I have my yard full of roses, but she doesn't like them because they make her snout swell up. From the thorns. If she'd known the tulips were from the Netherlands, she wouldn't have even sniffed them. She's patriotic, she prefers domestic products. Raw.
 
 Viorel Spinu
The neighbor's goat looks at me. Always. It stands still by the fence and looks at me. With the same fixed gaze. Always. I thought it was dead. Dead goats don't turn their heads after you. This one turns its head after me when I go out into the yard. Like a little robot. I expect to hear the sound of servos when it moves. The neighbor hasn't been out in his yard for about a week. He doesn't even respond when I call him. I'd go in and knock on his door. I'm afraid. Today, I found hoof prints in the garden. Right by the window.
 
 Răzvan Dițescu
No one knew where it came from. The neighbor hadn't bought it, and no one else had brought it to him. It was just there one morning. Black as coal, with long horns and eyes that seemed to understand too much. I let her guard me, he said with a strained smile. But that night, I heard them talking. Yes, the goat could talk. The next day, the neighbor was gone. The police searched for him for a while. They never found him. Then, one night, I felt a presence at the window. I turned my head. The goat was watching me. And it wore a sinister smile.

 
(Translated by Laura-Monica Doroiman / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)