He had enrolled with one purpose in mind. No matter how many grimoires he would have to write or read, how many roots to chop or crumble up, how many frogs to gut or worms to crush, how many graves to dig up, how many fingers to cut up, how many feathers, wires, or organs to rip apart, how many rocks, branches or flowers to gather, it would have made no difference in the end. Even if he has to follow the way of the left hand, and give up the way of the right hand, he knew that if he worked hard and studied, he could heal his mother. He belonged here.
Arthur Ianoși
I'm not the type to do a cross sign when passing a church. It's like trying to squeeze out forgiveness from sin using only one hand. Same as lighting candles. I prefer to talk to the Old Man in the wilderness. And with my dead ones too. I like to walk around the places they liked and remind them that they had a good life. When I call them over, something beautiful happens. I get all tingly. I get goose-bumps, my lips take the shape of a crazy smile, my soul lights up with longing. Abracadabra.
Ina Moldoveanu
Five thousand euros a year and the class is fully booked? Apparently I should send an e-mail, I might find an opening around 2030. They have all these master's degrees, doctorates, existential magic. Damn them to hell. Florica, make a list of three gossiping girls. Tell them their future for free, and boom, that's your publicity. Then hold one of those works' for a lotta money, as many as can be and as far away as possible. You'll get amateur witches in hoards. You give them magic women diplomas, and they'll be your customers for years to come. A magical initiation class, you imbue them with some marijuana, activate their demons and get filthy rich.
(Translated by Bianca Ioana Prisecaru / 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.