First, I hear her: a rhythmic sound that I recognize immediately. Then I see her from the window. The white stick precedes her and leads the way safely. Her walking is firm and her body straight as a statue. We are about the same age, and she is alone, like me. I am very fond of her. This morning I jumped at the window: something was wrong with the sound of the stick's echoing cadence. I look out the window and see two white sticks and, between them, a pale silence full of meaning. The blind has found her match and I have an inexplicable panic attack.
Dan Banu
I suddenly stopped in front of the mirror and looked in it. It had sharp fangs, thick fur, and strong legs. It was nervously fidgeting, looking for something specific. It couldn't find it. It started climbing up the right edge jerking its neck and growling like a rabid man. It tried a few steps on the top edge, but it slipped and fell. The brass edge bent. Enough to let the kid out. The wolf stopped as if spellbound, curled up into a ball, and the kid lay back in his fur like a pillow. I fell asleep immediately.
Miruna Marin
Two white flip-flops sit on a beach. They've been alone for so long. They have only each other, the silent closeness of the other, the only comfort in the face of the vicissitudes of time. Their voices have been gone for a long time. They've even forgotten it. No flip. No flop. Sandstorms have hardened their features, the merciless sun has scorched their soles, the rains have almost buried them under rivers of mud. They lean against each other in this Customs and stare into the distance, waiting for a miracle. Suddenly, footsteps. Damn it. I found my flip-flops from last summer.
(Translated by Florina Șamata / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.