During the first part I admired him, even loved him. He only made good decisions. We were like nobody else, we were respected. Now we're screwed. In the second part, he wasn't exactly in his right mind, but it wasn't his fault. You know what they say: who baited the man with the apple? The filthy woman. He made mistakes because he trusted her. Anyway, we'll never go back to where we were back then. So, I come here every Christmas to thank him and light up a candle. Because they mischievously killed him, as if he were a dog, madam. This is the truth.
Tavi Tone
A part of me acts normal, impeccable, well-behaved and without any excess. If you knew me, only this part, you'd find me a serious, sometimes even boring guy. But I also have another part. Novels are more interesting in their second part, right? So am I, believe me, I pick up chicks even on olx. I can't even explain why I am so successful. Could it be because of the new generation iron that I put on sale a few days ago, or maybe because I set my name as Șișu Steel? Oh, these women.
Nicolae Popescu
Music wraps around him, but mostly its pink pepper perfume. Mozart's Symphony No. 40 almost ends. He whispers to her: I'm going to leave at halftime, I'm not so fond of Ludwig. My wife's waiting for me as well, it's complicated. Nocturnes are next, after Beethoven. Chopin? But he wasn't in the program. Not with Chopin, with me. She darted a look at him. He stutters: yes, Beethoven can't be missing on a perfect cultural night. And these Nocturnes, yes, they are exactly what's missing. I'm going to let the conductor of the orchestra that I have some work left to do at the office.
(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.