What do they have here? The woman asked the people waiting miserably outside the frozen windows of the grocery store. The bread truck will be here soon, replied a short man, wrapped up to the tips of his ears. A lady wearing a crocheted hat told her to wait in line, she'd been there since five in the morning. When there was a honk of the horn and a motor revving, everyone pushed each other to get in line. Only a ten-year-old boy was left out, crying that he would get any bread.
Ramona Ungureanu
In the old days, when the flea was shoeing and stopping at the tit to quench its thirst, the flowers had legs and it was quite comical to see whole fields of daisies or poppies, running around with their flaps up and some rather mad or rather sporty man chasing after them, desperately begging them to get caught because it was his woman's day. And? So. Only at night they slept for an hour and then you could pluck one but it'd start screaming and then the others would whip you with leaves. The little boy listened fascinated. Daddy brings you flowers, is he crazy?
Alex Caragian
Eventually we arrived, but the place was deserted. Medieval alleys. Sloping walls with archaic architecture. Obsolete, time had forgotten to do its work there for ages, though it seemed to have been recently deserted. I died a couple of lives haunting it, and when I thought I would grow old in decay, a bolt creaked rustily and gleamed a ray of light on the cobblestones. A voice came over the piercing of the window: Who are you looking for? Myself. No one lives here anymore. Why do you search for the one who left, among those who stayed?
(Translated by Adela Neacșu / 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.