Flood 2.0

Răzvan Dițescu
Dark clouds gathered in dark herds. The air grew stifling. Sparks flashed on the horizon like flint striking steel. The water level rose steadily. The purifying storm drew closer. A heavy silence settled over the motley crowd gathered at the summit of Mount Ararat. They could no longer run. There was nowhere left to hide. Humanity was about to receive its due. The Divine had once again pressed the Reset button. A boy and a girl, two oddities with gills, the mockery of everyone, stepped away from the crowd. They smiled at each other and dove into the waves.
 
 Ariana Zburlea
Everyone is running. Sprinting as if their clothes might fall off. You'd think it was the flood, Spinner. He clutched the stuffed toy tighter under his coat, waiting for his mother outside the store. Is this what it means to not be a child anymore? To stop smiling when the clouds seem to be giving you a shower? Small storms range inside us too. When you're on a diet and can't eat cake, you're flooded with hunger. When you're sad, like Dad, who's always arguing with Mom, you cry. Why isn't she here yet? I'm cold. It was getting dark. Rain soaked his cheeks, and each tear glowed brighter and brighter, like neon.

Victoria Gârlan Grigore
Flower thought about making popcorn. What? Why should only her sister get to sit there munching in front of the TV, watching that show, Ashley? Will it come, won't it, will it, won't it? The bed was a flood of daisy petals. Popcorn. She wouldn't make a flood of popcorn. Too expensive. Her sister had already drained the family with her daisy-petal flood. What would they sell at the corner now? White seeds? Sure. People would stand there, mouths open, cracking those white seeds. Do they also gaze at the sky? Only Mitică got scammed. His Ashley had jumped into the French guy's swing.

(Translated by Maria Loredana Constantin / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)