Born to a beautiful mother and a biased father, not picky at all, she could easily win the crown for the perfect girl. She has many sisters, whose moods she endures with gentleness. It doesn't bother her that her dad has a few favourites. Today is a big ball, and he went out of his way to bring back the most colourful dresses from the market. The spoiled ones, unhappy, cut them up and tossed them in the wardrobe. And she, skilful and creative, pieced together a divine dress from scraps. At midnight, the king will choose his queen.
Daniela G. Pătrașcu
She opened her eyes. She started to remember who she was, who had put her in this situation, and why. She tried to move her cold-clinging arms, to brush the leaves off her face, to get up. She saw that she was in a vineyard, but she couldn't figure out whose it was. She remembered how he had hit her and banged her head against the wardrobe, then how he had put her in the wheelbarrow like a sack of potatoes. Everything hurt, but what hurt the most were the words she had heard coming out of his mouth, thinking he had killed her. The leaves were soaked with her blood, but she was still alive.
Paul Dârvariu
Even though "octo" means eight, October is the tenth month in the calendar. Ten minus nine equals one, which is January, Little Flower. I remember the first time I laid with you in the hammock tied between those two blooming linden trees. Who the hell has seen blooming linden trees in January? Listen up, Little Flower, if you give birth this month, like that doctor says, I'll pay anything for a paternity test, and if the kid's not mine, I'll package you both up, put a little red bow on each of you, and leave you at your mom's doorstep. Be careful, Little Flower.
(Translated by Eduard Mihai Uretu / 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.