Adina Vîlcu
Viitor Street was getting more and more crowded. The souvenir shop was selling shards in which if you looked, you could see your worst fear. The shop owner had come dangerously close to bankruptcy before. But now he watched the drawer under the counter, where money was piling up fast. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a little hand holding out a shard. I've come to give it back , said a little girl in a plaid, patched dress. It's a mirror shard, I can see myself. That's what they all see, my dear, replied the shopkeeper.
Carmen-Ecaterina Ciobâcă
We climbed up twisting alleys, we entered silent churches. You wanted gelato, whereas the lemons on ceramic plates caught my eye. I ran my fingers along the tiled vines of a tiled wall, you pulled me in and kissed me. I took your hand and we walked down to the mosaic garden. In my ear, a Neapolitan song was ringing. In the distance the sea was rocking. Are you keeping it? you asked with a tremor in your voice. Yes, I said, stroking the coloured glass talisman around my neck. It will remind me of Vietri. And of you.
Miruna Marin
Someone bumped into the buffet and the porcelain ballerina in the navy dress fell down. She broke both her hands, and her chipped nose flew under the sofa. So lucky, we won't have to take it out when Mom comes. With a banana peel wrapped around her body, the ballerina cried. The broken glass said: Don't cry little one, and sang to her, cling cling. Mona from the empty rubbing alcohol bottle caressed her, And people are still trash, you know, they only look for you when they're sick, and they don't even recycle. Milka, the little purple cow, adds, At least you don't have a nose, whew.
(Translated by Anca Maria Florea / 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.