I was recounting a while ago the fact that I won the lottery and sent the money to my girlfriend, on her name Abeokuta, a Nigerian woman that I was about to see after three months of talking on WhatsApp. So, on a beautiful Saturday I arrived at Abuja. My heart was beating out of my chest. I looked on the right - no one. I looked on the left - no one. On the panel was written: Lagos - 100 kilometers, Abakaliki - 30 kilometers, Abeokuta - 3 kilometers. I sighed in relief. I had to go by foot though because I didn't have a penny to my name. I took off towards the end of the world being full of hope.
Marius Stan
My parents are around 90 years old; one over, the other under. I am so fond of seeing how they spectacularly argue and sweetly make up after as if they are teenagers. Breakfast is a ritual they strictly respect: boiled egg, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers and toast. Then they have tea with biscuits or ginger bread. Day by day, old age steals from their bodies and minds. I wish I could give them some of my body and mind as they belong to them. It's a good thing the cemetery is only 3 kilometers away and we will see each other, we will see each other.
Laura Stanciu
Immediately after the surgery she moved to one of her aunts. She had two tumors the size of two child heads in her abdomen. After the intervention she was left with a difficulty in finding the right words from the shock of it. She was saying "money are", "I were", "me is spring", "I left tomorrow". She couldn't get out of bed. But one morning, after two weeks of convalescence, she went downstairs in slow motion, leaned against a walking frame, took a few steps, walked out of the bedroom and made it to the bathroom soaking wet and tired but victorious.
(Translated by Ioana Bobeanu / 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.