The end begins where the diversity lacks, so they announced when the planet's living things gradually lost their recessive traits. Identical, xerox copies. The women with wide eyes and butterfly eyelashes, thick lips and misshapen bodies, complained of blending in. The men, pulled from the same mold, were differentiated by their haircuts. The same was true of the other living creatures. No one special. That is, until he was born, the first curly-haired puppy in hundreds of years, and with him came the hope that the world would go on.
Marius Stan
Little puppy, she said, come to mama. And I'd come as soon as I could, with my tongue out. At that time I had curly hair, a sort of afro like Angela Davis or Arthur Ashe. She was a multi-colored wonder with red hair all over, green tightline eyes with black mascara and purple shadows, plus freckles distributed along and down her body. We made love in bed, on the couch, on the carpet and on a bench in Cișmigiu park long after midnight. Until one day when, hungry as I was, I ate her duck.
Cecilia Fofiu
For several months now, he has had dark circles under the eyes, exhausted as if after waking from death, his pants has been ripped by thorns and his arms and cheeks as well. Where do you hang out at night, asks his mother with her mouth wimpled, bursting into tears. He says nothing. He goes to work and starts again. Have they been to the old priests, but where haven't they gone to remedy the nightly wanderer? That wizard from Săuț healed him. For a pot of marmalade. Get him a curly puppy and he'll no longer chase after ghosts, for he is going to bark until he wakes up, if he sleepwalks. And that's fine.
(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.