I'm rusty Mărie. I'm like this yellow and gray autumn. My bones crack like when I was breaking branches in the woods. They were stealing my hat, scratching my face and my thoughts. Stop talking, Joan. You've been doing it all your life: what you earned for apples, you gave for pears. You've been complaining a lot. Look at the joy in the orchard. But what am I saying? Look for a memory near every tree. Look, this apple was grafted by my father. He's got three varieties of apples. It's the emperor of the orchard. When I look at it, I want to be a kid.
Gheorghiță Mircea
Defendant, do you know what you're charged with? Yes, of murder, I admit it, the voice urged me, because it said it was my destiny. Did you know the victims? No, but the voice told me clearly, they were devils. You are innocent. The next one. You're accused of murder and terrorism. I have no place here, the voice of my faith showed me the way, predestined me to purify the world. Did you know the victims? No, but they were different from me, they were unfaithful. You are innocent. I was talking to the judge in the pub at night over a beer. Why? What for? They're all the same to me, apples and pears.
Ionuț Tuhoarcă
I woke up this morning with a painful inflation. So affected, I flicked the remote and Neti appeared. The styled woman explained everything clearly, how this inflation comes and goes, leaving Dedu[1], Busu[2] and myself wide open. It all has to do with the day's vibe, which today is nothing. I asked her through the TV screen if nothing is five. She says nothing is nothing, and that's it. Then she told me to eat apples and pears for a healthy life. And she smiled. Electrocuted.
(Translated by Florina Șamata / 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.