Real Fiction / Andra Toropoc, translated by Lucia-Alexandra Brînaru-Mitrofan: One More Hour

I had no doubts, you spent a period of time with me in which it seemed like you were interested in my life. You knew how to go about with my soul so you could get another confession out of it; it was all like back when we used to make cookies, placing the shapes carefully so that we’d use up all the dough. However, the kitchen no longer smelled of vanilla, but of your cigarette smoke and my …