I was bitten by life in October. I cried a lot, although my mother fed me the sweetest milk there was. I cried as hard as I could because I was so thirsty, that they splashed holy water over me, threw me out the window and called me by a star name after. Not even that stopped my crying. Until one other October day, when my father took me in his arms and turned up the record player volume to the maximum. The crying only stopped when the stylus jumped off the vinyl. That squeaking sang my peace. I've been addicted to the imperfection of life since then.
Marian Bircea
The time when I didn't want to stay hidden any longer has come. So dark, so damp, I got tired of groping and, with my final strength, I rolled over. Almost blinded, I saw a light, the kind I've never seen before, a small guiding star and I thought. That's where you have to go. Unknown, no name, but I could hear its calling and I pushed my way towards the light. And it was cold and chill, but I thought I heard the sigh of relief. Welcome to the world. And I started crying.
George Dometi
The blue dog is tied to a snowflake-shaped flower tree. Its leash is retractable. He leaps from an unidentified star, reflecting in the water. Two voices. Who are you? Nobody 13. You? Dulcineea 87. Do you have it? Yes, but do you have it? Yes. We'll take them out slowly at three, alright? No. They'll see us. Let's go to my place instead. I'm staying there. Alone. Ten-story building. What do you think? No. Then how do we do this? Let's go to that alley. Alright? Fine. Having got there, the dog goes towards them like a mutt, lets out a beam of light and slashes them both.
(Translated by Cristina-Andreea Dobre / 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.