He likes giving gifts. He doesn't need occasions. Generous, he'd even give the clothes he's wearing to the poor. Big heart, the heart of an artist. He just sold some of his sketches, for little money. I will buy her a piece of jewellery, not the one she wants, but I'll find a beautiful one nonetheless, he said to himself, and it just so happened that he bumped into an antique store, where his eyes stuck to an old brass bracelet. A few small rings dangled on it. When he excitedly handed her the gift, she threw it away angrily. What should I do with a keychain?
Florina Hegedüs
Close, open, close, open. No, she isn't bored. When she opens I fill myself up with her image. I memorize every wrinkle and light from her iris. When she closes, these are fixed in chips with wild fantasies and I spasmodically squeeze the pixels but I don't want to finish. And she opens again. Starry Night is pulsating irregularly. I breathe into medium brightness. I don't play her game and I chain her. Sensors me, sensor her. I'm a devious AI, I know what I want. I erase her memory and I put the cable on her finger. I want her to be only mine. And she tells me Yes with burning thighs.
Gabriela Rus
The echo of my steps on the wet pavement, when the night kisses the dawn, was once among my favourite moments. The silence between sounds is said to be true music. Suddenly, the time signature changes to 4/4 beat. I speed up the tempo. I can feel the ring in the pocket of my coat. It should have been the oath of strength and protection. In fact, it is the seal of my enslavement. If I renounce, I betray, and betrayal means death. But there is no other way out for me. With a precise move, I throw the ring into the river and I stop on the dock.
(Translated by Raluca Sălcianu / 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.