He was looking at the waves. The tallest latest, as huge as a skyscraper. He used to come here every winter to watch the surfers. He admired them and envied them at the same time for their calm and courage. He was even laughing in his sleeve when one of them died. Of course, a tragedy, he said - but he was insincere. In fact, he thought they deserved their fate. He had always avoided danger. A life lived responsibly. Today he was old. Tomorrow he would be blind. Soon, he'd be left alone in the basement of the fort, smelling the ocean below.
Nicolae Popescu
He's blindfolded with a silk scarf. He's sitting on a chair in the middle of the hotel room. It's almost dark, only musk-scented candles are burning in the corners. He wants another woman, he's sick of the smell of his wife's soup. It's his birthday, he's given himself the hottest woman in town. The door opens. Stiletto heels click on the floor tile, a dress falls swishing. She sits on his lap, takes his hands and places them on her body. He kneads her firm flesh. He rises to her breasts. Hey, he knows this sign, he was the first to hold her at birth. Tincuța, is that you?
Ina Moldoveanu
Phill is tired of making premonitions, he turns six tomorrow and is already over the maximum age of the species. They come to celebrate him, and the mayor asks him if he will win the election this year. He knew he wouldn't, but he didn't want to spoil his joy. Extremely happy, he opened the champagne, choking with the cork that blocked his pipes. The local councillors blamed him for lying, he said sometimes the mole makes his luck with his paw, but this time he kept his mouth wide open.
(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.