Tuesday, 2 December 2025

Reading from „Când ești mic, ești fantastíc” ('When you're little, you are fantastic)

On Saturday, 6th of December 2025, I will meet you at the Gaudeamus book fair. At 11:30, I will be at the Cassius Books Publishing House Booth to sign an autograph on your copy of the „Când ești mic, ești fantastíc”.

Until then, a reading (check the text under the video to read it in English).

(translated from the Romanian)
She shook her head, trying to chase away that awful thought. It was too much!
"Are you cold? You seemed to be shivering."
"No. I was thinking about what you said. That people always laugh at other people. Why?"
"Lu says it's just a defense mechanism."
"What does that mean?"
"That they want to protect themselves. I'll laugh at you first, before you get the chance to laugh at me, and that way I can escape." 
"Oh, I see," said Irina, tucking her black hair behind her ears. "I wonder how grown-ups manage to cope with something like that.
"I guess you get used to it or try to avoid it. Or who knows?" Clara's eyes widened. "Maybe you attack first. People always laughed at me because of my teeth."
"Really?" Irina swallowed hard. She had thought about Clara's teeth too, but she hadn't attacked her.
"Yes. They call me lostrița. Of course, at first I had no idea what that was, then I found out it's a type of fish. But now I don't care, that's why they're so worried about finding me another nickname." 
"I don't understand why children are mean. They call me shorty, and even though I know it's silly and that I'll grow, that nickname really upsets me."
"Yes, actually, it's not the nickname that upsets you, but the fact that the others laugh, isn't it?" asked Clara.
"Yes, you're right." 

For a moment, both girls looked at each other without saying anything. It's good to find someone to share your pain with, someone who understands what you're going through without you having to explain so much. Irina glanced in the mirror and noticed that her face was no longer as red as before. Only the tip of her nose remained redder than the rest, as if she were some kind of Rudolph. She remembered her mother, who liked to call her little she-Rudolph, especially in winter when she came in from outside with a red nose. She smiled. And the smile was returned in the mirror by Clara.
"It's good to talk to someone."
"Yes," Irina laughed. "That's what I was thinking just now. Where were you the last few times when my colleagues were mocking me?"