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Cheese Country

SeptemberexcerptsIlie only looked me up in early September, a few weeks before the harvesting of the vineyards. He had come back alone, by train. He had told some lie to his wife and run over to see me. He was coming towards me with an enamored look in his eyes, ready to

Viva La Revolucion!

Bertrand had descended on our little town as if from a film: long-haired, with a beard that was still fluffy but nevertheless impressive in comparison with our teenage fuzz, and dressed in a T-shirt with Che Guevara on it. Besides, he was smoking Gauloises and was an anarchist.

Blinding: The Left Wing

excerpt The following days, Mioara took the girls for a walk in Chishmigiu Park and treated them on a boat ride (the driver of the black car had rolled up his sleeves and was rowing across the lake, giving the ladies nice smiles from under his pointed moustache). Later

One Afternoon With A Nymphomaniac

excerpts  I passed the entrance exam in philology at Cluj, but I was already bored after my freshman year. I had the best results in my class, but that was not my place. Whenever I danced at parties, and I felt the boys' knees splitting my legs through my dress, my

The End Of Love Disorder?

One of these days, a good friend of mine reminded me of how we used to court. It was his way of laying stress on the snail-like progress of things from Mrs. Grundy dates to the first touch or hand squeeze, and then to their ultimate glory – the kiss, which usually happened

The Almsmonger's Lover

excerpt After the snow, the numbers in the grounds of the church had grown scarce. The people did not have warm clothes, and notably not a thing to cover their feet. Then the blizzard commenced. When spring was drawing near, Mite would learn that uncle Minele had expired

The Wild Wine Gallery

excerpt He continued to walk towards the former Senate Square, his hand pressed against his jaw, still paralyzed from the aggression of the figurant, and the bizarre appearance of his General in that particular place. One blow after another. It was too much… It was indeed

The Intruder

excerpt  I wasn't wrong. In every woman, more than in a man, lies a history. But I have never in my life heard a shorter one, although the events in it could very well be enough for someone, their entire life. Could Nutzi have felt that I wasn't able to listen

A Shortcoming

If we were to maintain that the erotic language as an independent writing mode has at present been obliterated from Romanian literature, we would, perhaps, make a serious overstatement, but not lie entirely: it might seem peculiar, but this European literature, which is

The Procrustean Bed

excerpts  I passed dizzily from one room to another… nowadays, cubist furniture is commonly used and has long ceased to make a big impression, but four years ago there were extremely few lodgings that were furnished like that. Maybe a couple of banks had dared to introduce

Son Of A Bitch

excerpt When they were going back to the hotel, the clock at the Carol Foundation showed it was a quarter to five. They parted at the door, arranging to meet the following day. Mr. Petrica Miclaush lingered a little, to pick up his mail. He cast an indifferent look over

Defense Of The Editor B. P. Hasdeu

excerpts In connection with the press condemnation, instituted against Lumina by the prosecutor of the criminal court on account of the Emilia episode in the novel Damsel Mamuca, passed on June 3, 1863.  Maxim: De nihilo nascitur historia. . . (Propertius: II, 1) Gentlemen,