How the hell did they come out as three white and curly haired, two with black spots and one yellowish when we are a pair of Spanish Tekel, short haired and pedigreed champions? It's from stress, love. You were hunting rabbits and I was struggling to get pregnant. You get tired fast. You don't make it to three moves. But they are six, two per move, so you can see I'm a champion. Some of them have harlequin genes, lucky we with your cousin that keeps it in the family. The other three with the stray dog from the corner, oh what a pleasure, and one which God gave us.
Titela Durnea
When Laura proposed, Doru was as excited as a child. Sign of a young heart. In the morning they set off to the lake ending. On the way he awkwardly touched her hand. She blushed and laughed, dimple appearing in her cheek. They raced to the shore. They put on their skates. The lake shimmered, mirroring her wild curls. Such a foolish adventure. In the evening, when they managed to drag her out through the ice hole, two gentle, loving eyes watched him stonily. The dimples had frozen on the blue face. In the fire burning two pairs of skates, a heart grew old.
Ramona Ungureanu
My grandfather was a serious and tough man; you need to have a good presence to run a household. He was respected as well at the buffet. He had a notebook with expenses, with calculations of grain and windmills. But I had smart eyes. I would see him scratching the pig on his back, the one I had ridden to the co-operative, and how he cried when he butchered it. When he enters the gate, that big black dog that you'd think it was all one tail would scatter of joy. Hey Blacky, I think grandpa's got a body just so his soul won't spill out.
(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.