I translated dozens of short stories into English this past year. And contrary to what I imagined, I enjoyed the time-consuming work, even though I was constantly faced with the inadequacy of translation. It was curious to laugh during the process, something that contrasts sharply with my mood when giving birth to those texts. I remember it well… After immersing myself in the creative process, the prevailing feeling was quite different. There is something indescribable that one experiences when giving birth to a work, while facing the difficulties of the task. Now, all that is in the past. I can remember it and relive it with a serene detachment, and laugh at the result of such intense distress.