Ana Maria Dobre-Nir
I baked fresh bread for the Sabbath, I've brought you some. Pray for us. Of course, I'll pray, I answered mechanically. I don't have the courage to hug her, because I am afraid that I might feel the howl in her soul and then I return to the kitchen at once, where I touch the warm bread. Jesus Christ, Son of God, don't give up on us. I wash my face with cold water, I put on my suit, I take my laptop and rush to the office. On the bus I absent-mindedly read the news. God, don't let this world be our hell.
Dan Banu
The old lady looked at the oil in the lamp, tidied up the room, spread clean sheets, placed her best clothes by the headboard, cinched the drawstring bag in which she had gathered her many years and went to bed. She knew it was time. When the light touched the corner of the window, the old man rolled over to see the old lady staring at the ceiling. You didn't pass away, he murmured, looking over the top of her white head at the cherry plum tree branch that was about to crack. I did pass away, old man, but there were so many people and an angel saw me standing there shivering and told me to come back in three days when it would be warmer.
Andra Toropoc
I had been waiting for you the whole day. You arrived at about midday radiating a strange scent of perfume. Of course I asked you if there was another woman, of course you denied everything and started to babble idle words and that infuriated me even more. I slapped you, you grabbed my hand and I bit your fingers hard. I hadn't known how sharp my teeth were and how gross the taste of blood was. I hustled you and I left our house and your life. The glass door slammed behind me reflected a sunset as red as a carnivorous flower.
(Translated by Alina Roșu / 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.