Father Agheasmie stopped the car at the traffic light. A dark-skinned kid with a bucket appeared from the left. He got closer and motioned to the priest to open the window. Boss, want me to wash yo windshield? The priest waved his hand, saying nothing. The little one got to work. Look here, Luv, said Cherryplum from the passenger seat, showing him the phone screen. Women's brown leather jacket, only a thousand lei. Will you buy it for me? she mewled. At the green light, he sped off, windshield full of foam.
Ioana Clara Enescu
She froze on the chair in the small kitchen, lit only by the yellow-blue flame of the lighter that lit her imaginary cigarettes. The voice in her head was silenced only by the sound of the stones grinding against each other and the fire she stoked until she felt a small burn on her finger. She would send her longing towards him, to fill the fine wrinkles around her eyes and the indentation in her left collarbone like a delicate perfume. But she knew that nothing pierced the void that had swallowed her since their shadows no longer met even in a dream.
Costi Gălățanu
Tall, blond, blue eyes frozen with arrogance, dressed in black from top to bottom, only the twin lightning bolts on his collar reflected light now and again, every time the sun made the courage to emerge from the clouds of smoke. Buchenwald Obersturmbannführer SS Karl Otto Koch did not inspire fear among the prisoners, but horror. The heels of his black boots dug loudly into the asphalt of the alleyway between the barracks, and many of the weaker ones fainted when hearing the noise. It wasn't the sound that terrified them, but the human skin of the boots.
(Translated by Adriana-Maria Botea / 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 Ficțiuni Reale.