Session

Ana-Maria Butuza
  She woke up with a headache, her head spinning. She found herself in a strange room and started at the sound of the snoring beside her. She slipped out of bed and picked up her clothes. Once in the bathroom, she tried to recall, but then the door opened, and he walked in, stark-naked, ignoring her presence. He headed to the toilet and, legs apart, hand on hip, urinated at length. Eventually, he broke wind, and when he laid eyes on her, they both started screaming, covering their privates. He pulled himself together. Most likely, we had too much tequila last night after the NSSCS[1].

 Ana Camelia Tetiva
I listen to the sound of the wind against that piece of cardboard. I still have enough cigarettes, some bread and some mustard. I should have some coffee in about an hour when I get to my new workplace, the real estate agency, headquartered in the central town, inside the historical building that smells of the sewer, actually of mould and faeces. Yesterday, at the interviews, I didn't vomit. I held it in. Then I will return to this place overrun with cockroaches. Here, the wind smashes against the cardboard covering the hole made last night by a flying criminal procedure manual.

Siranuș Hakobian
A mighty existential weariness would drain me during each exam session, usually after the first exam. Weariness would seep in through the tips of my toes, urging me to put my legs on the desk. Eventually, the weariness would get to my tilted head, and I would fall into a slumber filled with dreams. I wasn't nervous at all during the exam. The weariness gave me a distinct and superior air, and my voice was monotonous and bored. Slightly confused, the teachers granted me embarrassingly high grades.

(Translated by Bogdan Macarie / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)