So, we've got air conditioning. The boiler's in the closet, to keep things looking nice.I nod. Yes, yes, it's warm. I've turned on the AC and the boiler. The roof still holds some moisture. We insulated it last year because it was terribly cold. But here, have a biscuit. Want some tea? Let me show you how the stove works. You can bring your own furniture, or we can provide a bed or something. I smiled as I looked out the window. So, do we have a deal? When can you move in? You know, I lost the key today. I got cold waiting for someone to come home. Thank you.
Andra Toropoc
It smelled bad, five cats tangled around our feet as I tried to dodge them, while she kept chattering nonstop: you'll bring your cat, when it rains, you'll sleep like a log, and in the evenings, you can come over for tea, we'll chat, and the girls can play. I'd hoped I'd found the perfect spot for rainbows and wild love under the stars, but I was wrong. I hate cats, I told her, and I'm not a lonely spinster wasting my evenings, I go out and have fun. She looked at me, offended. I won't have a floozy under my roof. I left, escorted by a chorus of disapproving meows trailing behind me.
Monica Aldea
He lived in an attic on the outskirts. Gentle and timeless, spending his days in the park with a pigeon on his shoulder, his street organ, and a box of lucky notes. The years had thinned his body, but hadn't erased the smile or the light in his eyes. Cheerful voices roused him from his reverie, and three pairs of little hands reached out toward the box. The woman took the key and read the note, puzzled - Attic for rent. Serious inquiries only. Three small hearts and one protective one had found shelter. Only the old man's smile remained frozen in the eternity of the park.
(Translated by Laurențiu-Gabriel Niculae / 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.