In the subway that ran with his thoughts was the rest he dreamed of after a hard day's work. Here below the ground he hunted the sky. Glittering people, artificially lighted people, or people who barely flickered, went up and down. Today she worked a fine ankle in her eyes, hid it under her eyelids and brought it home. He was drawing on the ceiling. A woman, to which he added or replaced something. The brought ankle gave the woman delicate balance and caught her against the gravity of the ceiling shining in the constellation of a sick man's mind. Nameless, she wiped herself.
Daniela Toader
When dusk was setting over the town at the foot of the hill, as all the mothers were chewing in the porridge, fiercely, as their mothers had taught them, as, in turn, their daughters would teach their daughters, after letting it simmer, they slammed it on a wooden bottom to cool, while all the fathers, having cut the carp into thick enough pieces, crushed a handful of garlic in their calloused palms, and then told their mothers that the mujdei was almost ready, we watched those nameless, nameless, numberless stars.
Sanda Burță
Everybody knew Crazy Joseph. He always wore a green surcoat, like his father's, with a hole in the left side of his chest. Hey, you know what's in my pockets? Stars, man, my pockets full of stars, he he he. Once he stopped right in front of me and looked at me with a serene look. Give me a cigarette and I'll give you a star, come on. I stole a pack from my father and gave it to him. Instead of a star, he kicked my ass. They found him hanging a couple years later. In his pocket he had a yellow star sewn on a piece of green cotton.
(Translated by Victor Albei / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.