romanian literary monthly

STORY – Elena Baciu Calugaru: „The memory of the living“

As soon as I approach to the barrage, I keep on the right and drive the car in a lane surrounded with tall fir-trees, biting a little out of the grass. I`m taking from the luggage rack the little bag with ashes. I`m walking on the bank of the Dâmboviţa. I`m in front of the landing stage. A lot of people, I go up stairs. Some of the people are fishing. I get out in the road. A group of the pioneers are leaving for. I go further. I feel like a malefactor who is paving his way. I`m thinking of you, Emil. I quicken my paces. I must be only with Ion`s desire and with my duty. I go with fear on the bank. The dam is tall, I shouldn`t have the power to throw the little bag directly into water, who knows it should knock against the edges. I`m afraid. And I shouldn`t want to hurt Ion.
My Lord! I see his forehead bleeding, too. I find a place favorable to my intentions. On the dam, more many people, too. I turn the switch to “ON” and I see him in Cornelia`s house, joking: “what beautiful girls come here!” ‘Mother comes by nine’, my friend >>>>>>>>>

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