Metropolis

Yuka Brevi
I'm going to leave at night, Șobo told him in a whisper. Here, in the capital, no one likes me. They run me over with a broomstick, they want to poison me. Like I'm stupid and I don't know how to protect myself. I went to training, to a psychologist and a coach. I know it's not about me, it's about them, but still, I also want to start a family, walk my children through dumpsters, peacefully. I told you I was leaving, right? I have a cargo, at night. Did I tell you that too? See? I must hurry, for I have grown old and forget why I am whispering to you.  
 
Aurelian Țolescu
Sometimes lovers live in different cities. They communicate their feelings, desires, hopes and would like all messages to arrive undistorted. The science of digital communications invented the Error Correcting Code that makes electronic messages arrive correctly. Unfortunately, souls did not invent such miracles and some love messages end up distorted. When you want to say that you miss someone, there is a risk that the other party will end up with some kind of reproach. The soul only senses, not corrects.

Alina Ilie
It's raining lightly, with sprayed drops from their now parched sky. From love they only have looks that no longer ask for mercy. The vile silence crept from the space between them and seeped into their bones, minds and souls. She opens the window to breathe and the shadow of the noise floods the apartment on the 70th floor. Everyone feels like the loneliest person in the world and would leave without making another sound, but courage is not the strong point of anyone of them. They both mechanically pull out a short white Kent cigarette and smile in a dead way.

(Translated by Andreea Maria Liceanu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)