Rodica Niculescu

“Late revelation” by Rodica Niculescu

Submitted to Contest #104

“Are you coming tonight?” This is the message Dan has received from Michael in the middle of the day. What I am going to do? Am I going out tonight? Dan is on the edge of his decision. He misses his friends very much, but something still keeps him locked inside his apartment, inside his soul. Then, he starts dressing with slow movements. A T-shirt and a pair of new trousers are waiting for the future moment of going out, the expected moment of leaving the house and of him. But now he feels he cannot wear these foreign clothes. It’s enough th...

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“The garden of a fate” by Rodica Niculescu

Submitted to Contest #103

I leave the Faculty Library towards Place Jussieu and from here I want to take the bus because I’m not in a hurry. Traveling by subway is not a solution anymore for me when I can avoid it. Using the bus, I can see the city in more detail. The discovery of a new place means for me to feel its pulse, its daily life. The subway takes you through the belly of the city where the arteries lead in closed wagons, people in a hurry or tired. They can be tired because of the weather and times alike. Or on the contrary, they can be light as the birds o...

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“The playful pattern of a fate in the mirror of a glossa” by Rodica Niculescu

Submitted to Contest #101

Time goes by, time comes along, All is old, and all is new; What is right and what is wrong, You must think and ask of you; “Glossa”, by Mihai Eminescu (1883), The chirping of birds is so sound in the peace of the morning. Freedom-thirsty dogs bark at the woods’ shadows in the woods surrounding his house. Their voice is only a sound sent back bay from the trees’ bark. His home set on a mountain slope, each morning looks with sleepy windows to the sunrise from behind the ridge, and each evening admires the calm of the king Sun wh...

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“The facets of a medal” by Rodica Niculescu

Submitted to Contest #100

It was a late May evening when Stelian last sat at the table with his wife, Ileana. The dinner tasted bitter, with harsh words spoken in distress. “You can say what you wish. I’m leaving! I have to because I can’t stay for nothing, without a job, and without money, at the mercy of your salary.” Helena’s voice trembled, but he, her husband, refused to listen to the sound of the tears hidden in the depth of her throat. The food remained silent on the wooden table, covered with a snow-white tablecloth, listening to how the mouths that should...

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“At dinner with the Life” by Rodica Niculescu

Submitted to Contest #100

Medea breaks her hands, her trembling hands, which she feels cold, although sweaty. She was pacing in front of the restaurant where she’s invited Sonia’s father. She is not sure that she will come and thinks with horror what she will tell the girl if he does not appear at the dinner. Sonia is a teen who passed all her life under state authority. Her mother passed away at her birth and her father never shown a minimum curiosity to meet his daughter. Sonia lived all the years of her existence with a dream: to meet her father. One day she came ...

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“Yin and Yang unbalanced towards the light” by Rodica Niculescu

Submitted to Contest #99

Sav crawls lightly on the thick branch and rubs his eyes in the sunlight. He belongs to an ancient snake tribe. Their head has the size of turtle. Sav is very proud of its considerable length and of the insinuating ripples of his body. The big snake knows that he can swallow anything, with a wide and flexible smile, without chewing the prey, whole and ready for slow devouring. Sav is an expert to use the snake-gaze to hypnotize the naïve ones, ready to strangle to death. He would like to poison them with hidden venom, but maybe it’s better t...

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“Sweet-Bitter taste fruits” by Rodica Niculescu

Submitted to Contest #57

On a scorching summer day, Stefan leaves his life on this Earth. He goes to a better world. He leaves at the sunset as if following the path of the golden globe beyond the horizon. Yes, he is or... he was being in the autumn of life, but he would have had much to say on the furrows of the dearly worked land, in the Transylvanian village where he was a man of honor.I'm looking at my brother with my eyes open and I don't find him at all in that soulless body whose lips will never again be calling me, ”Grigore, my bro'.” I lean with my elbows o...

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“The bridge” by Rodica Niculescu

Submitted to Contest #56

“I stand in front of the mirror and marvel at myself. I'm not the kind of man who's super concerned with how he looks or how I am seen by others. I don't have time, I never had. I always had to run in the race of professional evolution to get out of the swamp that my birth gave me. First I studied and worked, I didn't even have enough sleep time. Then, after I finished my studies, I started the search for jobs, for projects, for gaining prestige and money. This gain was almost my only food, quenching a terrible hunger. In the beginning, it w...

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“Regrets and fulfilled dreams on my Libra” by Rodica Niculescu

Submitted to Contest #53

I stopped on a bench in the deserted park. A man with a mask on his face hurried past me, gently bypassing my bench. I don't know exactly why, because he's afraid of me or trying to avoid my fear of him. This is the effect in the social area of the so loud requested physical distancing. Probably that's why for a long (too long) time this was called social distancing. I have a popsicle in my hand. But how can I eat it with a mask on my face? Why did I take it? Like so many other times in my life, I made something without a first thought. In f...

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“The potential of a momentary miracle” by Rodica Niculescu

Submitted to Contest #52

The wind seems to go crazy. It hurries in gusts over the passers-by on the sidewalk, shakes the panels with smiling faces advertising kinds of toothpaste, turns the hats of desperate women into flying saucers. I look around and try to find a place of refuge, while my hands are desperately stuck in the hat pulled over my ears. I am terribly scared to be forced of running after it among people, in the same way as the woman next to me who seems to push herself like a rocket without direction following her flying hat. Honestly, I don't like...

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“SADNESS OR LIGHT?” by Rodica Niculescu

Mike wakes up with difficulty after a night of turmoil without knowing exactly what arouses the bitterness inside of his heart. He looks out on the window that brings inside, the darkness of outside as if meeting it with the one from his soul. Somewhere, in a corner of the celestial vault, shards of light come to fill his eyes, and drops of peace are sneaking into his mind and soul as a prelude to the day that begins. Michael was born sad, a sad child. All the cells of his body seemed to bear the seal of sadness, coming from somewhere in th...

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