I put on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with a cat print on it. I put on some sneakers, then I go out. I get in the car, look in the mirror, wipe a black dot of mascara off my eyelid. I arrive. I walk into the crowded hall, take my chair, and wait. I hear my name called, go on stage, get my award and praise, then I go down. Next day I see all the publications criticizing my outfit. I'm going to get a silk dress and then I run off to live in the woods. The herd there commands respect.
Ana-Maria Butuza
The boys climbed foolhardily the snag as an unknown joy was born in their souls, making them a sort of rock-addicted. They were roped together and there was a perfect harmony of their moving bodies, as in a dance with the rock they mastered by hammering it with ice axes. They were slowly moving in line, as their hearts were pounding and blood was bubbling in their strained muscles. One misstep and one of them fell apart under his comrades' horrified gaze. Silence was in the air and a raven was circling, stalking its prey.
Denisse Oana Rădoi
I look smarter than I am because I still have a smart person's reflexes. At some point in the past, I decided to dumb myself down. It worked for me. Same with depression. I decided it. Becoming a dumb was a decision made out of love and of the need to be accepted by the other; becoming sick was made out of the desire to write about extreme states knowingly. Was it worth it? No. I ended up as a lonely, sick and stupid man. Stubbornly stupid. I live each remaining day with hoping that I can reverse the process and become exceptional again.
(Translated by Florina Georgiana Țîncu / 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.