It was a freezing cold winter before the Revolution. To keep warm, we made up scenarios and after a couple of drinks we got into character. Uncle Nae played a fence, Aunt Lina was a fire, Don Vasile played a knife, I played a pig, Mom Rela played a pipe and Dad Ion an axe. The scenario was simple: the axe cut the fence, the fence lit the fire, the pig sipped the plum brandy, the plum brandy fell on the knife blade, the knife cut the pig. I have many scars from back then.
Paul Dârvariu
is the one I made to introduce you to my parents. We came up with the script together, scene by scene, we carefully chose the set and the clothes, we edited the images flawlessly, and my mother's comments still founds us. Are you sure she's not underage? Have you seen her ID? I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with the law. Does she weigh at least 40 kilograms? Isn't she too thin to walk in windy weather? What a perfect smile!Are her teeth natural? I'm left with no choice, I'll re-shoot it. But you have to put on some weight. And no smile, please.
Carmen Tot
Tuesdays, in front of our school which also housed the cultural home, I waited for Leli on tenterhooks, the neighbour who lived behind my grandmother's house, who had been appointed as a film operator in the village. That day, as always, as the woman's silhouette became more and more concrete in the grey of the seven o'clock in the evening, we children placed our bets, waiting for confirmation: I say it's Zorro today; no, Winnetou. Or Tarzan. You haven't guessed, said Leli, smiling with the superiority of one who knows everything in the world, today I'm putting Stalker on.
(Translated by Adela Neacșu / 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.