Max no longer had an owner, he hadn't been trained, but he knew by the traffic signal sounds when he had to cross. That night he waited for the cars on the two lanes to cross. The pedestrians near him didn't move a muscle, so he took a little nap, with his snout on the edge. He felt his legs grow weak. He had been thirsty for a few hours, maybe a few days. As soon as he fell asleep, he sprang on the street. He was small and a little brown. He has a collar which looked like a medalion, and besides him sat a small girl's sandals. That's what he has been dreaming ever since the accident.
Vlad Pasencu
At the heigh of our fame we placed a bet of one penny on who would be the last one alive. John went first, at 40 years old, but the man we once knew had been gone for a long time. That crazy woman had taken over his mind and turned him against us. George was next. He died in Paul's house, which seemed to me a bit suspicious. I know we're only talking about a penny, but for Paul it's a policy to always be the winner. Out of the four of us on that crosswalk, only two of us were left. Let it be, Ringo.
Ana Maria Dobre-Nir
I took a pebble and threw it at the window display which had reflected my face. I cried. I laughed. I pretented not to hurt. I sat on the ground, in my newly bought costume and, for a few minutes, my only wish was to become one with the asphalt below me. I heard the cars, but I didn't care. Those with capital sins of the like of mine don't deserve to live. Maybe I really died that day. Maybe I died and I came back to life, but I didn't notice it. Or maybe I didn't notice it because I was stubborn enough to continue believing that one plus one equals two.
(Translated by Laurențiu-Gabriel Niculae / 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.