Florina Hegedüs
Years. In the closet down the hall. Statistics, reports. Pillar to the firm's rise and fame. My beautiful wife, my fancy car were the impetus of the day-to-day tediousness. The first time the director visited me in the windowless alcove. I might, to promote you - he said, looking at the picture in which the wife is lounging on the hood of the car. Gorgeous - he said. Yes, but I'm getting a divorce, we don't have kids, I said. Hmm - he growled, stroking the outline of the two with one finger. I'm selling it - I gushed. For the fistful of dollars I can now look at Central Park day after day.
Gabriela Rus
I haven't seen him since I was three years old and he showed up at my birthday party with one of those red electric cars that all the boys in kindergarten dreamed about. Mom sold it the next day and got me warm boots and circus tickets. I cried secretly, I didn't want to upset her. She cried enough for both of us. I look at his waxen face now for the last time and almost want to laugh. A car again. Red. I don't need such a legacy. Tomorrow I'll sell it and pay my mother for the transplant.
Ionuț Tuhoarcă
I went to a ribbon cutting ceremony. They were cutting the ribbon and I was there. Good people, whiskey, gorillas as big as the door, free cookies. As I stood on the edge, I started yelling my guts out. Hey, who stole my Ferrari? Nobody jumped the gun. Everybody knew me as a sober horse. I've tried with my Dacia and Trabant cars, but you could tell from a post that I eas selling a bill of goods. Only Tuța told me principally. You don't have the money to buy a ticket on the tram and you dream of these foreign things.
(Translated by Iulia- Mihaela Țugulea / 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.