Okay, we'll be right out. Hey, do you think this blouse matches our team colors? Hmm, I better change it. Boy, you're in a hurry. Can't you see how my hair looks? I can't go out among those people like this. Oh, stop sighing, I'll be ready in a minute. Let me get a blanket if I get cold. You know what I was thinking? Let's get one of your balls, in case theirs breaks, or some water, they might get thirsty. What do you mean, they've got it there. You never know. What? What? What do you mean it's over? I didn't even get my shoes on.
Iulia Biro
Today's match proved better than any film that has ever played at the Cultural Centre. First, on the stadium, as the mayor calls it, everything was colorful, from the players' costumes to the cheers shouted from the sidelines. Second, at half-time, DJ Tractor played a mix of soap opera choruses and manele music, the players and the audience sang along, causing the half-time break to be extended. Thirdly, Ion, the quarterback, punched Gicu, the goalkeeper, in the nose, took off his jersey and chased him all over the pitch, shouting to leave his wife alone, that he would cut off his d
Cristian Palade
it's not like in the schoolyard, where the surface is concrete and every fall brings you bruises, concussions, scratches, cracks; there are no stands and no spectators; the rules are chaotic and sometimes they even lead to a fight; the matches end either late at night or when your parents call you at home; and, the cherry on the top, you don't make any money. In the stadium, you have soft grass, proper rules and spectators; on top of that, you're famous and money is money. Ah, God, I miss the schoolyard with all its bruises.
(Translated by Andreea Cristina Moise / 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.