Dorothy McCarthy

Ellen Lee

by Oliviu Crâznic Translation from Romanian by Dorothy McCarthy and Alina-Olimpia Miron [MTTLC]   “You sure?…” “Hundred percent sure. It’s the second call to that address in less than a month and a half.” I gave the Chrysler some gas, letting Finn turn on the siren. There was no point in pressing him with new […]

The kiss of the pony

by Carmen Firan translation from Romanian by Dorothy McCarthy & Cristina Baciu [MTTLC student] click aici pentru versiunea română     In certain American nursing homes for the elderly, a pony is brought in once a month. The elderly are taken outside in the yard or garden of the institution, some are carried in wheelchairs, […]

The spider

  by Bogdan Mureşanu Translation from Romanian by Dorothy McCarthy and Diana Maftei [MTTLC student] pentru versiunea română click aici    Every time her thoughts drifted towards him, she felt a flight of butterflies fluttering in her stomach, until she started feeling queasy and everything began to spin maddeningly. Nothing was out of the ordinary except […]

Marişca

by Bogdan Munteanu Translation from Romanian by Dorothy McCarthy and Raisa Lambru, MTTLC student pentru versiunea română click aici   You might think that Marişca is an irresistible woman. That she’s damn pretty, that she’s got naturally curly hair, either blonde or dark, depends which you like, that she’s joyful, that she’s got something attractive about […]

The Muff Pistol

by Viorel Marineasa [Romania]  translated from Romanian by Dorothy McCarthy and Oana Badea pentru versiunea română click aici   The first things you find out about yourself derive from others, of course, but  soon are becoming so pressing that you seem set out in your  return to them, if not all the time, at least very […]

The Prank

by Răzvan Petrescu [Romania] Translation from Romanian by Dorothy McCarthy and Iris Butnariu, MTTLC student pentru versiunea română click aici     `Mr. Prosecutor, I am innocent!’ `Sure, they all say that…’ The magistrate sat clasped in his armchair, gnawing his nails, with a blank look on his face. The clerk’s quill was running across the […]

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