She brought home only two receipts today. She got rice with three meatballs in a casserole, and the driver let her on without a ticket. The payment machine must have broken down; she didn't understand what he mumbled under his breath. He waved her to go to the back, and she happily followed the order. She understands English people best when they talk with their hands. She kept looking out the window for the entire journey, eight stops. She couldn't bear to look anyone in the eyes knowing she didn't have a ticket. Mariana never travels without a ticket.
Ligia Dumitrescu
The urban jungle didn't scare me. Enchanted by the vine-like streets that greedily swallowed my steps every day, by the overwhelming sequoia buildings compared to the small trees I had seen in the grove where I first saw the light of day, by the generous hives from which I fed on fresh honey, gathered in pastel colours on canvases or flowing in sound cascades on stages, I had forgotten that there are also predators living in the jungle. I encountered them. Sometimes I licked my wounds, other times I claimed victories. But that is life. The exciting city life.
Marilena Demian
Colleagues, I am writing this email after three days spent among you. Before addressing the main issues, I would ask that we take the food packaging to the bins in the courtyard and, if possible, one of you remove the plastic bag from the smoke detector. Not necessarily because smoking indoors is against the rules but I, for one, am asthmatic. Starting tomorrow, we will begin individual evaluations. I'm not sure how to sign off, so I would also ask you to decide whether it should remain the Colonialist or Metropolist.
(Translated by Miruna Dumitru / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.