Iulian Sîrbu was a child like everyone else. Curious, dreamy, enthusiastic, always playful. Did anyone say "jogging"? Iulian Sîrbu already had running shoes on his feet. Are millions of dollars missing? Iulian Sîrbu had already started an investigation. Always with his knees bruised by God knows what investigation under the floor, he had, like any child, an endless energy. His only problem was that damn body of almost sixty years old in which he was imprisoned. And from which, no matter how much he screamed, sometimes no one could hear him.
(Translated by Elena Creţu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
*Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficţiuni Reale.