Mummy's good cousin, Voșu was born disabled. A smaller hand, hiding it in his coat and working or writing with his right hand only. Otherwise, sane, friendly and smart boy. My grandmother told me that when Voșu was born, he had an angel's wing instead of a hand, and that his mother prayed to the Virgin Mary to give him an illness, so that he would not be left out of the wonder of the world and be plucked by the wicked. So I also prayed fervently to the Virgin Mary to grow my uncle's little hand in order to become a doctor, as he whined he would like. And he did. Doctor of genetics.
Ionuț Tuhoarcă
My uncle knows karate. Unfortunately, that skill wasn't passed down to me genetically. Why do I say that? It was one night. The boss asked us to stay late. With love. It's not like I had anything to do at home. When I left. I didn't have money for a taxi. I'd bought a pack of cigarettes. Right on a bike rack. Some chick asks me. Sir, would you like to have a good time? I understand the hint and follow her. In a gang, I feel a brick in my head, like a crushed bottle. When I woke up. I looked for my wallet. Take it where it isn't.
Carmen Tot
Lica is getting married, says my mother, tomorrow we'll go and meet her future husband. What do I remember of that day? Nothing much. But from the following days I remember everything: the new uncle used to whistle while painting in the courtyard; the new uncle had a foul mouth and taught us dirty songs; the new uncle gathered all the children in the village, shouting defiantly: today we learn tango. The new uncle is now old, but I told to the fate: don't mess with him if you can't dance in this spectacular life. You don't know what he's capable of.
(Translated by Iulia-Mihaela Țugulea / 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.