Baloney

Varinia Mitrea
The sleep was sweeter than honey when some little birds started a private concert at my window. I threw a slice of bologna at them, scattering them into a cloud of colorful feathers. Just like some ninjas, the cats from the neighbourhood appeared in a flash and pounced on the bologna, then the dogs came barking, chasing the cats like cops in a high-speed mission. Chaos reached its peak when aliens descended from the sky, drawn by all the fuss and the idea of an intergalactic picnic.

Alexandra Buhudini
She was the first one to step out of the building, followed by her shadow, but older by about 10 years. She tightened the belt of her coat like a noose around the neck of her waist. The belly of the sky pressed down on the crown of her head, her heels bit into the speckled cement, and her thoughts lamented on the seesaw of despair. The light of my lantern dims. There's always a place where the grass is greener, and you chose to graze on the pastures of another Eve. She stopped under a streetlamp. She devoured the revolver, hungry for its cursed flesh. Tears set her mouth on fire. Bye, Boloney.
 
 Mircea Mihăilescu
I sometimes think of the great personas, like Galileo Galilei. Such a stubborn man; how he was against all those who were there at the time, not to mention the final defiance after people had exhausted themselves trying to save him with all their might. Hey guys, but it is still moving. And he's not the only one. For example, me. Lacking the means of the great scholar to express my genius, but still deeply permeated by it, I find myself compelled to uphold a truth that I am convinced will be recognized by posterity: baloney is good.

(Translated by Alexandra-Ecaterina Sandu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)