It was January, we were together in Athens, and the Theatre of Dionysus lay at our feet. You were incredibly full of life, smoking one cigarette after another, telling me everything about Euripides' Medea. You're so amazing, I'm so happy you came with me here, you said. As we climbed the steps of the amphitheatre, something pierced your chest. Are you okay? I asked. Yes, maybe I should quit smoking. Two months later, the roles were reversed, and I was the one bringing flowers. The tomb was old. Deus ex machina was non-existent in real life.
Ana-Maria Butuza
Mizuki's dream of making a life for himself in the Japanese metropolis was shattered just a few hours after he arrived in Tokyo: his money was stolen, and then he lost his housing and the promised job. He shared the little rice he found in dumpsters with a black rat in a basement, until a storm left them trapped without food for several days. The boy let the rat feast on his leg before crushing its head. He skinned the animal and roasted it over the blue flame. He had not given up on his dream.
Ruxandra Donose
His squinting eyes look with an expression hard to decipher. Perhaps behind them lies only an endless void, easier to bear than fear. He gives up and lies down on the sidewalk. At the next corner, a young man with no teeth, sitting with his back against a shop window, takes a deep drag from a joint. At the stoplight in front of me, a Tesla Cybertruck. It has the aggressive safety of a tank disguised as a sci-fi toy. The juxtaposition is suffocating. Someone shouts. Sirens wail, the city seems to be in a state of emergency. No ambulance in sight.
(Translated by Diana Georgiana Rădăcineanu / 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.