We play whenever we want at my place, but at Marusca's we're not allowed to, because there are China ornaments everywhere. When her parents are away she has me over and we pretend we're grown-ups. In the living room, I take a seat on the sofa, among the dolls, and I stare at the China ornaments. The one I like most is a ballerina standing on one leg. I even wanted to imitate her once. I stood up, closed my eyes and opened my arms wide. One sway and the ballerina tipped over. How I wish I could do pirouettes. So what if my legs don't work because my mom jumped from the third floor with me in her arms?
Florina Hegedüs
In the afternoon, Kibou left the China ornaments shop in the girl's care. Hidden behind his little gray screen with green cranes, discoloured by time, he lit his pipe and blew smoke rings in the air. Through them, he watched his girl. Underneath the helmet of jet black hair, her translucid face with nicely arched eyebrows and red lips had long forgotten how to smile. But the agitation bothered him more, the whispers of the tall pines in the street. He brushed off the thought. The bell announced a customer. A blond elephant entered and the girl smiled. Just like his wife had smiled when she left him.
Yuka Brevi
Zero point three nanometers. That's how small a uranium atom is and it can destroy the whole universe, he told him, drawing a big circle with his arms. Small things can change the world. A virus travels on a mushroom spore, enters a nostril, then another, and so on. It can kill an entire specie. A piece of clay? The same. It can be turned into the finest porcelain, which could adorn kingdoms just as well as shacks made of dirt. Don't be sad, I'll get you another beer. You're not insignificant. You'll find a job.
(Translated by Raluca Sălcianu / 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.