Fortunately, I have no memories of communism. I don’t know what the line for buying milk means, I don’t know what the limited cartoon watching time means and I don’t even know what it means to put the bananas up on the cupboard and wait for them to ripen. Or to eat them green. But I have some memories right after we got rid of communism and I know that period wasn’t easy either, but my eyes and mind of a child didn’t let me see and remember too much.

But I remember that I received some nice dolls with ruffles, with kerchiefs and some gorgeous dresses. One was blonde, the other one brunette. One had long hair, the other one short hair. I know that I admired them from morning to night and I didn’t take my eyes off them, of how beautiful they were. I would have played with them, but they were kept in the display cabinet as figurines. Well, the figurines fashion didn’t disappear so quickly.

My grandmother always told me that we kept them as good things, so that they would not spoil somehow, because then I would cry after them. But I was already crying after them. Finally, there’s sunshine on my street and I got the dolls. Maximum happiness spoiled only by the careless Diana who let drop one of the dolls in the dirt. The dress was muddy, the hair the same. I know that I ran to wash it quickly at the fountain, that the water was almost frozen and as I was crying I heard grandpa (oh, grandpa) whispering to me to go and dry them with the hair dryer so that my grandmother wouldn’t find out. Grandma didn’t catch me and grandpa, I think, never told her about the incident. I don’t have the dolls anymore, but I still have the dryer that got me out of trouble.

Diana Parvulescu, Busteni