aici<\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It was hardly by the book, said the Lady-angel, still filing the tips of her wings, an activity which she had started in one of the previous episodes, but hadn\u2019t finished until the present time (the current time of the story that is, for, if the reader will recall \u2013 and that shouldn\u2019t be a problem \u2013 part of the action takes place in heaven). In fact, if we were to stick closely to the historical truth, the Lady-angel was almost done filing the tips of her wings and was about to paint them red, with the aid of a mixture of red powder and some sparkling golden dust.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Hardly, the Angel admitted gloomily, for it was not what he\u2019d hoped for. Brick and mica? he went on to ask just to pass the time and make a little conversation, for both the Angel and the Lady-angel were really miserable.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Tut-tut, the Lady-angel said, brick and gold powder. I get it from gypsies. There\u2019s one of them kicking the bucket almost every day. It\u2019s always a knife, or a fight, or a border or some unfinished palace. I have someone at the Gates of Heaven who lets me know.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 How come?<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, they really can\u2019t help themselves and still pinch something from Earth. They come with loaded pockets: a brick here, a pocketful of powder there, a shingle, whatever.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And the gold mixed powder?<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Oh, that was a windfall. A once-in-a-lifetime thing. But I\u2019ve stocked up on it. I have enough for a thousand years, a whole calendar\u2019s worth. By then it went out of fashion and I\u2019ll just come up with something else. Anyway. They got fired up over a house, or a palace, as they build these days. The whole clan, brothers, sisters,<\/p>\n
brothers-in-law, cousins, godparents, godsons, for if it weren’t for these computers that have come out now, I tell you we couldn’t cope with bringing them to the heavens, we wouldn\u2019t know whom and when to get. So they couldn\u2019t get along and decided to split it. And they kept splitting it down to the last spec.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Hence the brick dust, the Angel said astutely.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You\u2019ve got it.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And the gold?<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, you see, some of them had buried gold in the foundation, to hide it from the Militia, but didn\u2019t say nothing to the others, so they shouldn\u2019t make any claims. And so, all mixed up (there, now I\u2019ve started to sound ungrammatical like them, too), \u00a0you couldn\u2019t tell the gold from the dust. Baftalo. Lucky me[1], I mean, for following one of them, one who arrived this morning and was assigned to me. That\u2019s what he said to me upon arriving, baftalo<\/em>. But he explained that he had been very lucky to escape, because if they hadn\u2019t cut a hole into his gut (I didn\u2019t quite get that part), the Militia would have come and, should he have managed to escape them, too (although they say no man or gypsy ever got out of their hands alive), gypsy justice, whatever that is, would have followed.<\/p>\nWell, I’m off, the Lady-angel said, making an effort to stand up from the flimsy little cloud she had been sitting on.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Right, they should be here any moment.<\/p>\n
The Angel had hardly finished his observation when a few angels showed up in heaven (in this particular part of heaven, to be precise) and they were dead, so to speak (although the phrase does indeed seem somewhat unfitting), dead drunk. They were staggering and kept tripping over the towers of proud Catholic cathedrals whose tops poked the sky, holding their wings around each other\u2019s shoulders and singing erratically and completely out of tune So do good angels drink.[2]<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 What\u2019s up with them? the Lady-angel managed to add stealthily before disappearing behind theTowerofBabel(a construction meant to reach the sky, as you know).<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 They is<\/em> (I mean are<\/em>, actually, I\u2019ve started to sound more and more like them, God forbid) the comrades\u2019angels.<\/p>\n–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Which comrades?<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Those about to enter the story in the next little chapter. It\u2019s part of the plan.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And this one will succeed, \u00a0or what\u2026?<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, we\u2019ll just have to pray to God, what else can we do?<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 O, God, you\u2019ve dragged the good Lord into all your communistic, atheistic, Stalinist nonsense. I hope he doesn\u2019t strike you.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Neither do we. I mean, we do, too.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Good.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Bye.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Bye-bye.<\/p>\n
In the meantime, the said angels had come close enough to be able to distinguish the blurry figure of Marinic\u0103\u2019s Angel.<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Hey, one of them asked, isn\u2019t this Marinic\u0103\u2019s Angel, the bloke we scuffled with before and I mean really hard?<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Oh, yeah, that\u2019s him!<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And isn\u2019t he going to put up a wing or something?<\/p>\n
–\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I don\u2019t know, let\u2019s ask him.<\/p>\n
\n\n
[1] Wordplay: bahtalo=lucky \u00a0in Romany<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
\n
[2] Wordplay: \u201cSo do good people drink\u201d <\/em>\u2013 traditional Romanian song<\/p>\n <\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 by Gheorghe Sechesan \u00a0Translation from Romanian by Roxana-Andreea Dragu, MTTLC student pentru versiunea rom\u00e2n\u0103 click\u00a0aici –\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It was hardly by the book, said the Lady-angel, still filing the tips of her wings, an activity which she had started in one of the previous episodes, but hadn\u2019t finished until the present time (the current […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[925,22],"tags":[1160,907,403,917,1116,312],"class_list":["post-8755","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-35","category-short-story","tag-egophobia-35","tag-gheorghe-sechesan","tag-mttlc","tag-roxana-andreea-dragu","tag-short-story","tag-translation"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s6DakB-ionica","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8755","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=8755"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8755\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9058,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8755\/revisions\/9058"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=8755"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=8755"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=8755"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}