He shouted from the doorstep: At your command. Followed by the clicking of heels,loud as a deadly comma, straight into my ears freshly greased with Mahler's Symphony No.2. Reporting, Cadet Benjamin, Brigade 12, Călărași. Keep your back straight and your chest forward, soldier. This is the army, not Swan Lake. Well, what do you have to report? With your permission, yesterday, at around 1400, my boots cleaned themselves on the rug. Soldier Button, get your shirt into your pants and your mind in order: in here, rejuvenation is prohibited.
Marilena Demian
In the dimly lit corridor, ghostly silhouettes move silently. They whisper. Through the glass walls of the salons, green lights, monitor screens, and the flickering play of candle flames can be seen. Lighting candles is not allowed. In the corner salon, asmall-sized figure with long, graying hair leans over the bed where a form is connected to machines. Poor young lad, he's been in a coma for a month. And his mother hasn't left his side for a moment. It's not his mother; it's his wife. They brought him here straight from the wedding.
Paul Dârvariu
As usual, I consulted Gabo. This time, he scolded me. Perdóname, hombre, you claim to have read my work cover to cover, but you don't remember what I said: people age only when they stop loving. The answer to the question is within you. Remember when you stopped loving.All night, I ransacked my memory. Eventually, I fell asleep and met him again: Maestro, I don't think I'll ever grow old. Hombre, such pride is a deadly sin. Postpone your answer until after the Christmas Fasting.
(Translated by Laurențiu-Gabriel Niculae / 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.