They shot him for nothing, ma'am. It was better before. We would get a house, the children were really learning, they had somewhere to work. I stare at her like she is an abomination. The rush for milk or bread or cotton, the chill in a room the size of a matchbox, the fear that they might find out my innermost thought, they don't hurt me anymore. Today at the Archives I came across the only picture of Mother. In the penitentiary. She holds her hands on my shoulders in an angelic embrace. I'm a baby serpent, I found out. Like all the children of the mountain resistance people[1]. Shame on you, I say to the lady, shame on you.
[1]Appeared as a reaction to the communist regime.
Cristina Daniela Dumitru-Pascal
I got her straight from her mother. She was a total retro and I chiselled her, I educated her, I taught her to be a lady. / The devil made me surprise her and I dusted, I vacuumed, the cat helped me too, and in the end I broke an elephant vase, a perch pig and a mirror with frogs. The world's biggest scandal happened because I ruined her karma, zen and feng-shui. I mean, I chipped away at luck, happiness and fertility. I cried, fell to my knees and promised her I'd fix her karma, zen and feng-shui. But tonight. She forgave me.
Ionuț Morariu
Grandpa was never a man like all men. Nor in death did he go like all goners. He took everything in stride. He got gangrene, they cut his leg. The phantom limb gave him signs from beyond for a while. Polyglot, Grandpa quickly learned the language of ghosts. He told Grandma he loved her, clipped his fingernails so they wouldn't gather dirt when they covered him with dirt, and closed his eyes. So as not to disturb the rest of us, he rarely visits. About two dreams a year. Not even dead is Grandpa the typical dead.
(Translated by Alina Bâznă / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.