Once upon a time there was a sad little blanket in a corner of the wardrobe. Although it was very fluffy, having a fine design of magnolias, everyone had forgotten about it. She had accepted her fate, cuddled and muffled herself in, until one day, when a soft, damp little nose appeared unexpectedly in the open wardrobe door and sniffed curiously at her. She heard a bark that meant: I am Bitter, will you be my blanket? I'll scrunch you around the corners a bit, but, I promise, we'll be together for a long time from now on. The answer was YES.
Camil Popescu
When it gets dark, people's souls in the asylum creep through the open windows and spill out into the garden. A stray petal sways in the air to the feet of young Kali, who's out in the doorway smoking a cigarette. One by one, the souls weep to her, like Dali's melted clocks, sing and dance together, and at midnight accompany her to the door of the room, from where the young woman sends them back to their temporarily abandoned bodies. Some never want to return. The next day she has to notify their families.
Vero Anttheia Teodoru
Misaki had a strange and mesmerising beauty. She would pass through the busy streets of Kyoto at the same time every morning amazingly caring. She knew every pebble or obstacle. She would work in a small flower shop until late at night. Mrs. Hikari, the owner, loved her like her own child. She watched her in awe as she placed the flowers in the ikebana bowls. The girl knew plants by smell, she was born blind, but delightful works of art came out from her hands. When she would put magnolias in, sales soared.
(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.