Mine not.Mine is a human. Actually, a man. So, Man-Man. Even though the ID in the feline registry says female. Otherwise, I can't explain why there are always drops left on the edge of the litter box. A large, pink litter box, well-stocked with lavender. Then it has no shame scratching itself in intimate areas or in its ears, only to finish by gnawing on its nails. And when it eats, crumbs are always left next to the bowl. And yet, it comes, settles down on my chest, and starts to purr. In that moment, I understand that it is indeed a cat, because a human would never be capable of such love.
Miruna Marin
The kids had cornered him. His back was arched, his tail raised like a battle flag. You're a mighty tiger, he told himself. Around him, a forest of legs, shouts, and laughter. Roar like a lion, that'll scare them. Then came the giant hand that scooped him up. I have wildcat claws, and I'm not afraid to use them, but no matter how much he struggled, he only scratched the air. Bam-into Grandma's robe pocket. The kids pouted as Grandma stroked his tiny head with a gentle finger. And so ended his warrior spirit. The little kangaroo-kitten purred.
Alina Ilie
When the star ignited, the Martian monarchs, with the help of the Elders of the Mysticism School, managed to transform their otherwise unpleasant, rough, and angular appearance into one that exuded only gentleness. They covered their hideous bodies with soft fur, their deep-set eyes in sockets paved with limestone scales turned into mesmerizing little eyes, keeping only their whiskers as the talisman of a life with absolute powers. Once the metamorphosis was complete, the kings were sent to Earth, tacitly subjugating all of humanity from that moment on.
(Translated by Larisa-Marta Mreană / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.