Story selected by Simona Sora for publication in Revista de Povestiri. The theme of the story was: freedom

…

You bury your feet in the sand. Lift one hand from the water, lick a finger. With your clean finger, you rub your eyes. You open them. They don’t sting. You swim five meters against the waves pushing you left of the yellow tent you’d chosen as your landmark. You come out of the water near it. A shell pricks your foot. You limp towards the terrace, rinse your hands. You log into a call with the important client who holds your monthly bonus in his hands. Your parents don’t get it. They’d have to take days off to be at the seaside on a Monday.

…

‘At last, you suggested going out,’ he says. ‘When you told me you had to finish some project, I thought we’d never meet up.’

‘I only said that so you’d find something to keep you busy while I finish my presentation’.

‘And here I was thinking you were trying to get rid of me.’

‘Never. But I have to warn you, I’m not the best company right now. That goddamn woman really brought me down. You saw how she mocked me in front of the whole team. <<You still have time to learn how to be a good leader.>> The nerve on that one.’

‘Come on, don’t get upset over a broken woman who has nothing in life and is trying to belittle someone as cool as you. How about some sushi in Afi to make you feel better? Hungry?’

‘I could eat rapa whelks at the seaside.’

‘Don’t say it twice.’

‘I could eat rapa whelks in Vama Veche.’

‘Alright,’ he says, abruptly changing direction.

‘Are you crazy? What are you doing?’

‘We’re going to eat Paco Rabane or whatever you call them in Vama.’

‘It’s one in the morning, and we work tomorrow.’

‘We’ll stop for your laptop and swimsuit, and tomorrow we’ll work <<from home>>.’

Just before the bridge at Cernavodă:

‘I have a little game for you. You in?’ she says.

‘What game?’

‘You ask me a question, then I ask you one. You have to answer briefly and honestly. Whatever we say stays between us. But here’s the catch—you have to start your questions with: <<What would you say if I asked you…>>. Otherwise, the other person does not have to answer. And you can’t ask something I already asked you. You’re allowed a few quick clarifying questions, like why I gave a particular answer.’

‘Fine, you go first.’

‘What would you say if I asked you how many women you’ve slept with so far?’

Four hours, three shots, two glasses of rosé, and one beer later:

‘What would you say if I asked you… wait, it’s coming. Oh yeah, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for a guy?’

‘I surprised my ex by getting on the same airplane. Most expensive ticket ever. I booked it one week before the flight.’

‘Why?’

‘We were breaking up because he finally fulfilled his dream of moving to England. I wanted to steal a few more days.’

‘Recently?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Why didn’t you go with him?’

‘Hey, that’s enough, my turn. What would you say if I asked you what you appreciate most in a woman?’

‘Her eyes. Everything else ages, sags, falls apart. Beautiful eyes stay beautiful.’

‘That answer crushed me. Your turn, ask me,’ she says.

‘Could you have sex with someone—just sex, no relationship?’

‘You forgot to start with <<What would you say if I asked you…>>. You don’t hold your alcohol well, do you? You lost your turn. What would you say if I asked you the same thing?’

‘Wow, you’re such a cheater. So now I can’t ask you, huh? Well, guess what, I’m not answering either, and I’m heading to Stuf to pick someone up.’

‘Go ahead. Pay up and I’ll stay here, listen to the waves, and let you two have the room. Just don’t put the beds together, maybe I’ll find someone myself.’

‘Fine, let’s skip picking anyone up. We’ll just sit here, listen to the waves. Maybe I’ll even kiss you. Come on, bottoms up—to your ex in England!’

^ Photo from the portfolio of Mihaela Nițulescu, see more on her Facebook page.