The freshman ball, known as Electrics '87, had the scent of a Shakespearean romantic comedy, exuded by the mischief of the students. It came as a big surprise that an unknown girl, strongly supported by the guys, signed up for the Homecoming Queen title. She was beautiful, tall, with long legs and high heels, a bit too much make-up, but talented nevertheless. She could recite and sing nicely and was well-read. When she sat she didn't know what to do with her legs. Few took notice of her balls peeking out of her panties. She won the title.
Carmen-Ecaterina Ciobâcă
When the dark falls, the forest comes to life. Long shapes emerge from behind the trees. Muffled whispers fill the air. A beam of light cuts through the night, the engine purrs like a cat, and a car door clicks. Silence follows. Dina adjusts her stockings, smiles disdainfully in a piece of broken mirror, and is about to light a cigar when she hears a scream. A man drags a woman by her hair while dishevelled shapes swarm around, trying to save her. Her heart smites her, and she shouts, as she used to do at the orphanage: Arrêtez, monsieur. C'est mon petit frère.
Daniela Toader
She squeezed the clay between her fingers, weaving memories. The overseas countries, the people, their big ideals, their soft, sweaty hands, nights spent in deserted airports, money lost in gambling, one-night loves, a lifetime of intoxication, sorrows, tears and vows, attempts and failures, bets. Yes, stupid bets, a rock hidden under the waves, the nights swallowed him up, one, two, eleven. He shouldn't have jumped. Only on the twelfth night did he realize he had been dead for a while.
(Translated by Bogdan Macarie / 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.