I'm invited to Fane's birthday party at his house. Nice guy, well behaved, modest, thrifty, with a flat and a Dacia car. He's a good catch, I think to myself, especially since I'm a bit broke, but I have charisma and a model physique. I know how to cook omelette and tea and I'm modern, up to date with all the latest in music and fashion, of course. Kind, he served me with eggplant salad on pita bread and juice and put on his only vinyl record, Bobby Solo, Una lacrima sul visa. And we danced until dawn because the record was broken and the stylus was worn out.
Aurelian Țolescu
I started learning a little music and accordion when I was about 6 years old at the Pioneer House. I played in an ensemble that had some celebrity, including at the Presidential Villa from Olimp resort. We all sang together and played well. When I got older I learned to play the guitar and I had a nice voice too, back then. I played on my own for a pretty long time and even had some success sometimes. It's been years, career, teams, and I'm just now learning what instrument solos and life solos mean.
Răzvan Drăgoi
The real cause of death wasn't alcohol combined with drugs, but loneliness. Sometimes it's cold, even in the heat. Most of her body felt cold. She'd gone too far. Half a step to whatever was beyond. She tried hard not to believe that there was nothing beyond. Her blood pumping acid out of her emotions. In fact, at 28, the beyond shouldn't exist. She was successful. She had everything. The music stayed with her. I have no idea why I'm writing about Amy, but this conjured up the word solo, which actually means alone.
(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.