It has been following me everywhere for some time. At home. On the street. On the bus. On nice weather or on bad weather. While I watch the TV. When I go grocery shopping. Hey, go away, dude! Have you got no business? I feel it there somewhere above my right shoulder. Floating. Rather hanging. With eyes closed. Sleeping but no longer dreaming. It smiles. Enticingly. Creepy. Disgustingly. It swings as if hanged on the arm of a weighted scale. I know how it got there. It got up on a chair. The chair fell on the floor. He stood. H____d.
Cristina Daniela Dumitru-Pascal
She was in the maximum security prison, she was looking into his eyes and was jabbering, justice is not on your side, the child will not know his father, I lost my memory, even so I don't need to see in order to believe you, just talk to me. You are accused of murder, man. He kissed the wound from the wrist and left. The killer has to have a cut above the palm, it was written in the file. And he had confessed. After she got out, she smiled, he believed her, she thought to herself, she could leave calmly, along with the diamonds he had no idea of.
Marian Bircea
On times of moderation similar to the madness of poverty, the coin of three lei, meant for a greedy child, the ticket to an accessible paradise. Four hot croissants of twenty-five pennies and half a kilogram of marmalade, cut from the block removed from wooden crates and wrapped in paper, quenched the desire for sweets of two children. My surprise was completed by the saleswoman's skill of cutting the piece and by the moving indicator of the ten from ten gradation scale with a mirror slit. The factory Balanța from Sibiu city.
(Translated by Irina Vild / 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.