Alex Caragian
This woman with a human face, because I can't call her anything else, I fell head over heels for her. Well, how? Thump, thump, big noise. The fall hurt me superficially. On the soul. Over time the wound became infected. It spread fast throughout the cardiac system, but especially in the control room. Unfortunately, she also suffers from the same illness because of me. One day when we were carelessly coming out of the bathroom we collided and scattered each other's atoms on the carpet. Since then we have been putting them back together, but we only get enough for one being.
George Dometi
I sat and watched her lie there like a piece of mouldy clay between palms, shapeless, disgraceful, impudent. With her legs contorted under her body and her hair soaked with blood that had already dried. Ah, that trickle of blood disturbed the colour of the parquet floor so white and clean. The murder weapon, a broken vase that I had managed to get my hands on when she discovered me in her closet, was lying in a sack. I was hidden so well that sometimes I identified with the hard, weathered, burled wood of her dressing room.
Arthur Ianoși
I used to pass Serenity Park every day on my way to work. I was fascinated by the two bronze statuettes sitting face to face, both arms outstretched, yearning for an embrace. The Lovers. They also had a cool story written on the pedestal. The truth is, if I took it through the garden behind them, I would cut the distance a lot. Sometimes I would sit on a bench and try to guess their names. It was -15 degrees that morning in Reykjavík. The lovers had frozen. I hit them with the ski pole and saw their smile in the shards.
(Translated by Andreea Laura Stanca / 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.