We're out of love, all we have is hate. Would you like some? How did it run out? There were many people in line, so it's all gone. Why didn't you give out smaller portions so everyone could get some? What am I supposed to do now? Hate? I don't want that. Watch where you're going, lady! Old farts taking up all the space in buses. All you do is wander around with a bag all day. I can barely scrape by and put food on the table for my kids, but good for you, you've got big pensions. I'm the one paying for them. I'm sorry. You couldn't get a bit of love either? And you're crazy on top of it all.
Oana Brumă
I go down into the subway and a poster immediately catches my eye: a mother and her four children standing next to a farting cow. What's with this absurd image? The text says they're to blame for the increase in CO2 levels. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. A gentle-looking old man with a Santa Claus beard approaches me. Well, isn't that right, ma'am? Look how crowded this planet is, what kind of idiot is still having kids these days? They bring nothing but trouble, bring out the worst in people. Me, sir. And my husband is even more insistent about having more.
Laura Stanciu
The first person I ever saw was the glassblower. He smiled at me. Then I was packaged and displayed in a store. Hundreds of faces passed me by. Most of them didn't even look at me. The men frowned and scrutinized me, sizing me up. Some got closer. They touched me. I felt like merchandise. A gentleman took me with him. I travelled for an hour, protected by the packaging, and I dozed off. I got startled when he installed me in his mother's bathroom. She liked me a lot but that was the day I began to age.
(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.