He was about to say something more, but suddenly stopped. The whole room was filled with words thrown about in disarray, creating the feeling of stale air. He thought there was nothing that hadn't been said at least once, and he suddenly realized that, in fact, there was nothing left to say. He looked at her one more time to imprint her image deeply in his mind, then went to the hanger, put on his jacket, and left. Outside, it was a splendid autumn day. He took a deep breath and felt that, along with the air, the sunlight entered his lungs.
Marius Dichisan
A red light flickered above the door. Maria pushed the children into a room, slamming the door shut. She fixed her mask, opened the recycled oxygen tank, and pressed the main entry unlock button. George entered, placing his bag beside the table. Together, they resealed the room. A hissing sound was heard as they pressed the purification button. Then, when the green light blinked, George removed his mask, smiling. He opened the bag and took out three cans. Maria's eyes widened. The children screamed with joy when they saw the label: Bottled Fresh Air.
Gladiola Chete
A realistic mother, who adored him but had always thought he was too foolish to do what was right, along with an authoritative and intelligent father, guided him both openly and secretly. A loving father, always unhappy and embarrassed by how much of a fool he was. An ex-wife who had gone through both phases of married life, as his parents had wanted. An estranged daughter. All of them, heavy smokers and loners, forced to coexist. They find him in a smoking room, alone, hidden in smoke. What are you doing? Getting a bit of fresh air.
(Translated by Alexandra-Ecaterina Sandu / 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.