Ciprian Apetrei
Welcome to the House of literary success. Do you have creative writing classes? Of course we do. What do you want? Well, you know, I have some ideas, I've lived through some things, and I would like for people to read about them. It can be arranged, here on your left it's the area for debutants. And on the right? There are specialized classes, recreational writing, for the tired people, for example. Or lascivious for the single ones. For a healthy lifestyle we have laxative writing. I want the full schedule. Congratulations, you received a free repetitive writing course.
Ana-Maria Butuza
At the news over the phone, he ran out in a heartbeat, driven by emotion and a new, intense love. Arriving at the maternity ward, breathless, he tried to guess which was the little bundle of living flesh, part of him and part of his wife. But they all looked the same, wrapped like cocoons, tiny, fragile creatures with little mouths like moist buttons, searching for the sweet nipple. His gaze stopped on one of them: my boy. He is the spitting image of me. But, in that moment, a hand tapped him on the shoulder. Sir, your daughters are in the other room.
Monica Ciurea
had existed separately. I had instinctively felt him beside me for a while. We multiplied, and then I suddenly had the feeling he was part of me. Ma'am, it seems you have twins, they initially told my mother. But only I came into the world. She was surprised; the others said it was probably a mistake. Still, my mother knew: the two parts had merged. When I played ball in the yard with the boys or swore like a sailor, she watched me knowingly with those other eyes. Her little girl, Andra, carried Andrei within her. I would give birth to him 24 years later.
(Translated by Ioana Levîrdă / 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.