For this week’s Translation Tuesday, inexplicable shapeshifting, bad table service, tangible numerals, and a loving friendship that defies spatial logic are on the menu in “Heimat who Lives in a Box,” written and translated from the German by A.E. Sadeghipour. In this surreal microfiction, a dinner date is marred by embarrassment and a rude (and seemingly inhuman) waitstaff. Sadeghipour’s ability to flout realism while preserving the conventions of the short narrative leads us to a conclusion that is both ironic and “happily ever after”-esque.
My friend Heimat lives in a box which she wears everywhere we go. It constantly causes conflicts when making dinner reservations. The last time we made a dinner reservation and crossed the threshold of the restaurant, she grew larger than the door and continuously banged into the door frame. She grew embarrassed and shriveled down into a matchbox. I picked her up, kissed her, walked in, and was escorted to our table.
The service was horrible or maybe we were never supposed to be there. The other guests closed their eyes as they ate, and the waitstaff’s heads were always transfixed on our position regardless of where their bodies were moving. When the food arrived, it was cold and had a hair in it.