Trafika Europe 8 - Romanian Holiday

Doina RuSti

being extended with some cotton of the same watery green. Instead he made them pockets, some big visible ones, others hidden in the lining, small pockets for single coins, one on top of the other, small slits in the pleats next to the fly, pockets for the waistband and the hem, pockets within pockets, sealed by buttons or ornaments, embroidered with silk, a total of 18 pockets. And as he twisted the thread and sucked in his lips, through the open window between the painted bars, the sly April breeze brought in the Song of Selim . And suddenly his mind whirled with dancers hopping, led by a Greek, a friend of the merchant Mustafa, dancers

with interwoven fingers standing tiptoes, ready to take flight. The name of Bucharest was vibrating, making his nostrils tremble. Ioanis dropped the needle and ran after the singer who was minding his own business, raising his thin flute-like voice anytime he mentioned the dream city’s name – Bucharest. Ioanis’s mouth dropped when he heard that Macariotatos Selim himself had composed this song and he sung it so many time that evening and during the following days that every last member of the Milikopu family knew the lyrics. Mustafa was the first person to see the new trousers. Unlike the teacher, he was pretty optimistic about the

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