You may be wondering why the resounding success I have when it comes to sports doesn't make me a happy person. Why the millions of admirers and the hundreds of matches won under my name are as useful to me as life insurance is to a dead person. Well, let me tell you. A few years ago, I threw a coin into a wishing well. All fine and dandy, but you see, why didn't anyone tell me that that damn well was actually deaf? It's not when it comes to tennis that I wished to be good at.
Corina Nina
I realized that I no longer had my wallet after getting off the overcrowded subway. Someone else had gotten off with it, it was clear to me. I felt bad for losing my personal documents and the silver coin I had bought at a flea market last year. The old woman who had sold it to me had assured me that it was lucky. It had never worked for me, but I liked its ancient allure. I had just entered the house when the doorbell rang. In the doorway, I found a tall young man with a slight smile and my wallet in his hand. Madam, you lost it on the subway.
Răzvan Dițescu
The sour cashier handed him his change: a coin. Green. Covered with verdigris. Woman, I don't know what you don't like about me, because you sneer every time you look at me, but give me another damn coin, he felt like screaming. But he kept silent. That's how he is, a good boy. A wuss. When he got home, he took out the coin. On one side there was an eagle, and on the other a head. It must be a commemorative coin. Stephen the Great? Queen Mary? Aurel Vlaicu? Let's see. A few drops of Cleanex later, mystery solved: 10 lei[1]. 1930. Carol II.
[1]Romanian currency.
(Translated by Oana-Elena Dragnea / 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.