Hello, old man. Or young man. It doesn't matter anyway, do you have five minutes to talk about Our Savior? I'm in a hurry. Hmm, I don't believe you. I'm Pete. It's pronounced Pitt, like Brad. You've been selected for an indefinite stay in our paradise destination. Wait, what's going on? My wife was making me food and... Exactly, it didn't suit you. Really? See that little cloud? Which one? It doesn't matter, whatever. The third angel with the harp on the left is the fire escape. The elevator's down, the cables in the basement are overheating.
Sanda Burță
In the tuberculosis ward the silence fell. Where's that guy? If they cut my pay again because of him, I'll wipe your ass with emery paper, the nurse shouts. When the worries had faded, Mihail kicked Gavril, who was pretending to be asleep. Move your ass and whistle for him to come. Let Rafael whistle for him, because I haven't got a breath today. What's his name, I keep forgetting, asked Rafael. Uriel, haha, what a name, gasped Mihail. After half an hour, Rafael returned alone. He doesn't want to come, he's sitting on the stairs kissing a girl.
Daniel Onofrei
We've been climbing for three weeks and only God knows how long it will last. The fire had started somewhere between floors 100 and 130, and the news, broadcast via TM directly into the brains of billions of people, immediately sparked panic. The staircase had been stormed on every level and now a giant human centipede was crawling towards the upper floors. Word was they were going to seal off the first 500. Sleeping in ghirths leaves deep scars in the flesh. Sirens announce the waking, the distribution of food pills, the birth or death of someone. We're going up.
(Translated by Cătălina Colibaba / 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.