It's early, I thought at first streak and covered my face with dry leaves. I don't want to wake up until my mother comes to bed. But my shoulder was pulled out from me and so my body, and just like that, lifted into the air, I was forced to watch the giant raven, harbinger of death, stealing my father's face. Damned you cripples, he spat, you've been slacking, spring hits you all. Hey, go to beg, or I'll let you starve. My little sister, Nuța, winked at me, taking my hand: let's run, we are two, he won't catch us.
Andra Toropoc
She was giving herself airs handling in the armchair: Mr. Artist, I tried on my own, selfie after selfie, but useless. Only you can create me using vivid colours, so that the posterity will remember me. I looked at her, how dumpy and haggard she was, and I was thinking how little material I needed. A ray of sunlight was tracing her shadow on the wall and she was smirking with depressed eyes, pleased with herself. I'll be in your studio like Botticelli's muse. Of course, I said, I'm the best taxidermist, and she stared in wonder. That green look made me name my work Spring is coming, coming.
Florentina Enache
You cous', don't you daregoing to the Serbs in February with your girlfriend 'cause they are crazy about discounts. This little thing fucked me crazy and my cash at the drop of a hat and then went to the mole. To what? That's what they call cards: плати картица. One day, she ruined him all and so he found out. Yeah, but at least you won a long-term score. Garn!; we didn't even come back and she left me for another. Why, was the mole fatter? No, he had more than one, and they were all big.
(Translated by Florina Georgiana Țîncu / 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.