Make Haste Slowly

Sanda Burță
From the very first day, He was left with a bit of light and a touch of darkness. Being prudent, God set them aside. I'll find some use for them eventually, there's no rush. On Tuesday, the sky turned out just right, on Wednesday, He saved a wheelbarrow of earth and a bucket of water for mankind. Then there were other things left over too, splinters of stars, feathers from birds. Saturday, after finishing His work, He didn't feel like tidying up the workplace, so He placed everything that was left inside the man's chest. Had He not been so tired, maybe He'd have fastened those wings onto our backs.
 
 Ana-Maria Butuza
The boardwalk stretches out calmly, with its white pier and blue rail seeming to bind the sky to the sea. Beyond it, the beach and the waves stir under Ana's curious gaze. Her fingers count slowly, opening like petals, one by one, then closing again. She writes carefully, caligraphic, afraid to make a mistake. Here, alone, in peace, homework flows naturally. At school, the teacher doesn't understand her rhythm. She rushes her, raises her voice to her, and then Ana's thoughts scatter, as if someone were wiping her mind clean with a wet sponge, clenched tight in her small fist.
 
 Monica Bologa
I close the entrance door, skip down the stairs, two steps at a time, dash to the car, start the engine, and text him: Love, I'm on my way; I can't wait to see you. He replies immediately: Come quickly, but please don't speed; there's time.  Sting plays on the radio, the road becomes a flowing ribbon, I glance in the visor mirror, lipstick on my lips, mascara on my lashes, joy in my eyes, longing puts the pedal to the metal. Then, silence, too much silence. Somewhere in my heart, I hear his voice again: there's time, there's tiiime, there's tiii-

 
(Translated by Maria Loredana Constantin / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by prof. dr. Nadina Vișan / Edited by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)