Rejected by the abstinent blonde, I drank all alone in the hotel room. I drank three bottles of vodka and then fell in the bathroom like an October leaf. Dead. Now I am on the hallway. People wait in silence on their chairs. An angel without a wing smiles to me. Relax, the sorting takes time. So this is it. Yes. Really? Yes. Eh, I'll get used to it. Are there any towels? No. Even better. My only regret is that I've wasted my time writing stupid jokes. Eh, not entirely, mister comedian. The jokes have been read by thousands of people. So, you wasted thousands of people's time.
Lucian Pătru
I carefully slide down the tree bark. Ouch. Not careful enough, it seems I've scraped myself right where I was already hurt. Damn that knot. Alright, the grass feels better. But I still have to keep my eyes peeled. I'm starving. Where was that tasty ant nest again? Ah, that way. But ouch, those little devils sting like crazy. They don't give up easily. Wait. What am I seeing? The god of lizards? Yes, it's him. The human. Unpredictable. Devious. Insatiable. We will never get rid of him. What now? That's it. I'll turn into a ball.
Arthur Ianoși
My day felt like an Edith Piaf song chocked by neglect. I had forgotten to close the windows, and the storm had wreaked havoc. The gramophone needle was stuck on Je ne regretted rien, and its brassy horn amplifying the sound like a swan's lament. The windows had been flung against the walls, and shards of glass lay scattered like an autumnal kaleidoscope across the scuffed parquet floor. Resigned, I start picking walnuts from the branch that had narrowly missed my head. The gramophone suddenly falls silent. Well, no regrets. I pick, regret and then cry. I regret.
(Translated by Maria-Ilinca Darie / 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.