Every night, my mother sings me the same nursery rhyme: An elephant was swinging on a spider's web / And since it didn't break, another elephant joined. I never get to find out how many elephants that goddamned web can bear. Yesterday I set out to stay awake until the end. When my mother got the count up to 10 elephants, I got out of bed and climbed up on the web. I barely managed one swing before the web snapped. Good thing the Sandman was there to catch me or else I'd have fallen on the floor with all those elephants on top of me.
Marius Stan
There are two teenagers at the table next to mine and they seem to only have eyes for each other. He shyly reaches out his hand. Shier than him, she does the same. Their coffees have gone cold, the ice in their cups has melted and they're still gazing into each other's eyes, with fondness, not saying a word. Hey guys, what are you doing here, asks a smiling man who has just entered through the revolving door. Then he raises his hand towards the entrance. Mioara, I'm here. Look what I found. Our son has a girlfriend. And she's pretty. Look, the kids are here too. Wonderful. Alex, Matei, pull up some chairs for yourselves.
George Dometi
I was quietly planing wood. The tiny wood shavings formed a dry, natural blanket around my feet. Hearing knocking at the door, I walked over, dragging along my lucky crippled leg, once declared unfit for duty, and opened it. A thin woman, gaunt, her eyes swollen from crying, wiped her tear-streaked face with a black handkerchief. Through bitter sobs, she told me the remaining men of the village had returned. The gaping graves awaited hungrily. This damned war had filled our cemeteries to the brim.
(Translated by Bogdan Nicola / 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.