Last night, for example, I fell asleep watching TV. I fell asleep late, because the world lately seems to have gone crazy. Then I dreamt about you. I could see you in the distance. I kept running towards you, but to no avail. I couldn't get any closer. I woke up sweating and crying. I don't know if you remember, but you promised to look for me from the other world. But you didn't send me any sign. No news. You appear to me, as I said, in a dream. But you don't recognize me. And I know I'll go mad because of it.
Fabiola Stoi
I was obese from the nothingness of others told in hours and hours of news and treated myself with the importance and smugness of the emperor walking around in his new clothes. An hour and another hour and another, laid one on top of another, bricks of news piled up in my lifetime. Today I visit the wall of news, as a review of what it brought me. Some brought shade, a few have been sunny, but most have been windblown. Not even the shape that built the wall is left. The naked emperor put a sack on it and warmed his bones in the sun.
Monica Aldea
Tinu is 12 years old. He lives with his grandmother, the only one he has left. The old woman is cleaning. At 10 in the morning, she puts her grandson's mug of warm milk on the stove. On the radio, the news is muted. Turn it up, Grandma. I like listening to the invisible people. I can imagine what they all look like. The lady from Villages's Antenna is a gentle teacher. On Imortal Traditions, the gruff-voiced gentleman is a wise grandfather. It's Sunday. Tinu woke up late after a bad dream. The radio is silent. So is grandma's voice.
(Translated by Adrian-George Ilinca / 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.