“Shoot, Titule, so the boys can escape!”
Jublenii and Marinescu were somewhere on Vîlsan. Titu Jubleanu’s wife, Marioara – God forgive her, because one day we may find her bones – had washed the laundry and spread it out in the sun. And a surveillance plane flew over. They said it was the flight from Sibiu. But it was from the Securitate, and it said to the people down below, ‘Look, there are white dots on this square! And they ran her over. When the Securitate saw Miss Mărioara, a kind of Elisabeta Rizea… her last words were: shoot, Titule, so the boys can escape!… Uncle Titu […]