The Dacian slaves were in an uproar when Decebal's head and hand were shown to Emperor Trajan. He had ordered Crixos, the Assyrian priest, to be brought in. The Dacian's head was grinning from ear to ear. Libations made, a goat slaughtered and Crixos goes into a trance. He looks into the eyes of the Dacian king and with a terrible scream falls convulsively before the emperor. Oh, woe unto us, what a terrible time lies ahead. His followers will lead Dacia into the ways of the empire. They have three brave generals. Logan, Sandero and Duster.
Titela Durnea
Laurențiu told the best jokes in class, but he was incurably shy. At 18, he had only kissed the bathroom mirror. And the pope's hands. And his mother's cheeks. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you about meeting Daiana. He wrote her the note at break time. He invited her to a tea dance, he'd pick her up at 7, with Dacia. Our girl perched on her mother's heels, pulled her red, pleated skirt to match and got down. My guy was in front of the block with her sister, Dacia. Support for any emotional stuttering.
Andra Toropoc
We lived on Burebista boulevard and had our first business, a winery. And a Lăstun car that we parked in the block. It sucked when the front driveway was blocked with limousines and we had to go out to the dumpster. We'd somehow sneak in, pick it up and carefully place it on the street, first at the traffic light on Decebal boulevard. And we'd whip him around, walking like Fred and Barney, our hats wrinkling like mushrooms on our heads. Later we became real aristocrats, we got a berlina, moved to the Roman Square and opened a pizzeria.
(Translated by Andreea-Daniela Vasilache / 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.