I met him one summer. When I was younger I wanted to become a goalkeeper at Steaua. And why don't you want it anymore, another child asked him. Isn't it obvious? He nods to his missing right arm. Oh really, how stupid I am, you can't be a goalkeeper without two hands. And they both laugh. They are eleven years old and they live in the same salon. It rained a lot at the funeral. As I was walking back home, the rainbow came out. At the end of it, God was putting his arm back in place. I thought I fell into the void. Yes, but I defended you.
Alexandra Buhudini
The metallic sound of the spoon in a plate where your mother cooked dulce de leche and in the plate that Rosa puts under your snubby nose, orphaned by kisses are the same. El Pibe de Oro watches them from a painting. He is their most ardent supporter. The victories over the other schools in the city are written in used equipment and lacy sneakers like Paco, their mascot. Big dreams have the same taste in the orphanage and the Bernabéu. On the green, lined notebook, they will write history with the chess ball.
Elena Fermuș
Luță and I, the ideal couple. Big day compatibility. Also written in the Chinese zodiac. We think the same. We share everything. The same couch, the same bathtub, the same shithouse, plus the passion for football. There would be only one discrepancy. I, Steaua supporter, like poor father, he, dog[1], until the day he'll die. It's bad at the dispute between these rivals, we are no longer two in one in the stadium. Bisous, and each in his own gallery. We play the third half at home. With slogans. Luță, Luță, ole, ole, ola, come on with the goal, let's be in A-League too. What a boy.
[1] "Dog" is a way in which Dinamo supporters are named
(Translated by Ioana Andreea Radu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.