Anarchy and Jasmine

Mihaela Scânteie
I've always known what had to be done. I had two Molotov cocktails in my backpack. I had made them yesterday. All of the cocktails in the Square were made by me. Down with the government. A rock flew by my right temple. The black scarf used as a mask to protect me from the gas still smelled like her. I had breathed her in all night. My love, please be careful. Yes, don't worry, I'll be back. Promise? Yes. Down with the government. I looked behind me for a moment, we were many, we were determined. I breathed in from Adina's scarf again and threw the first bottle.

Răzvan Drăgoi
I'll take a sabbatical and hide on a small island. Without rules, without internet, without all that makes this world the way it is. I'll feel that I'm growing roots, not like trees, but upside down, clinging to an illusory sky and going down with the hand-branches towards the earth. It will smell like linden flowers, jasmine, sea and uncertain dawn. I'll listen to my breathing as the sounds of the waves. I'll be a rustle, nothing more. Until then, greetings from a grey administration building, where shadows breathe the coffee steam. Nevertheless.
 
 Ioana Clara Enescu
Colorless green ideas sleep furiously, Chomsky's famous sentence which demonstrates the creativity of human language, is grammatically and phonetically correct, but semantically nonsensical. Stylistically, it is a hybrid between an oxymoron, a metaphor and a personification, isn't that right, asked the professor, seduced by a demonstration that the students didn't feel like listening to. Hey, teachers, leave the kids alone, came from a small speaker and the professor was left all alone in the hall where words floated around like a perfume on a summer's night.

(Translated by Ruxandra Adriana Dodoiu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)