Before she let out a last breath, the empress bestowed upon the princess the ring with the keys to the palace. One hundred rooms and everything your heart desires. Only in the room in the tower should you not enter, unless you are prepared to lose everything else. And as soon as her mother closed her eyes, the princess began to look around the palace. The rooms were full of treasures, silks, furniture, delights, and birds. But the princess did not stop. She climbed the tower and unlocked the door to the last room. However, there was nothing there. The girl did not know that she had just released the hope.
Laura Stanciu
You will bring the coffin and the clothes you wish to bury him in. We will wash and shave him. We will fix him up, you won't see the surgery, ma'am. Then, we will place him in the mortuary car. Covered, of course. You will have to order the car as well. Tomorrow at 9, come to the morgue. Your husband will be ready. You should come even earlier to pay the fee. Here is a bag of his belongings. I will give you his ID tomorrow. Here are his watch and wedding ring. You have to give him a ring made of something else. It is customary.
Răzvan Drăgoi
I'm a shepherd from Mururoa, just past Kiribati, a bit further away. As I was with the sheep, on a pasture in Nauru, I suddenly saw a beauty passing by with fish. You, rare flower, I said, do you happen to know Romanian? Igen, she said, and we instantly became friends. We danced a zeppelin-like rolling stone hora[1] from around here, from Mururoa, and our friendship soared even higher. We made lovechildren because it was quite uncomfortable to make them out of hate. I put a seashell on her finger. The mushroom clouds on the horizon of Murora were incredibly beautiful.
[1] Hora is a traditional Romanian and Moldovan folk dance where the dancers hold each other's hands and the circle spins.
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.