On a spider's web. And because it didn't break. The kid was banging the wooden elephant on the arm of the chair. Grandpa, what if this is the last show with animals, what are they gonna do with them? Would they give them to us? They would play in the pond. They would take water with their trunks and sprinkle the garden. And the vegetables would grow huge. The curtain suddenly rises. The trainer's whip struck him thistly and the baby elephant went frightened on the stage. Under the beam of light, his painted face broke into a smile. The wonder elephant - his last solo performance.
Ana-Maria Butuza
A dusty piano was sitting silent in a corner. It didn't sing, because it has no fingers, thought the little mouse Solo, in his crack in the all. If I had eaten something today, even a grain, I would have the strength to press the keys. He didn't finish his thought well, because an supernatural force pushed him to the middle of the room, and with a leap he was up on the piano. He leaned on his little tail, took a deep breath, lifted his forelegs, and when he put them down, the C sounded briefly. How good is not to be alone, even when you are, said to himself thinking of cheese.
Bogdan Mihai Bati
We were billions, each one wanting to be the first at the egg. Telling the story, it's clear I was the first. Egg. Jackhammer. I knew what to do. Billions of brothers have cracked their head against the egg, whole hordes all at once, leaving me alone. Ecstasy. Joy. Loneliness. Sadness. I took my life seriously and I began to grow up. Peanut. Walnut. Apple. Watermelon. Bigger and bigger until I felt my end will come. White light. I tried to hide. Bigger hands than mine grabbed me to pull me out. Nooo, I hear a voice. He turned his ass.
(Translated by Mihaela Stănilescu / 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.