Mona Zelenco
I had felt attracted to Asian girls since I was little, ever since I listened to Bowie on repeat, with his China Girl. Once in Manhattan, I couldn't avoid the small town in the big city. The steps quickly carried me to a club that promised fulfilled dreams. The swaying of Asian goddesses fascinated and awakened impulses in the palms that threw banknotes. I chose the best one. I could feel the attraction in the oblique glances. Enthusiastically, I tried to kiss her, when I heard, Nu pi gură[1]. I was about to swallow my native Romanian tongue. I will no longer underestimate the chameleon power of women.
The village was tiny - like a colorful patch on the elbow of a clown with no circus. Instead of a moon, a funny ship watched over it. High up, among the circuits, lived Ah-Kum, a monotheistic God, in a kimono, who loved a terracotta soldier. She kept a logbook in the cubby by the control panel. Tired of loneliness, she chewed a quantum coil, exploded and turned to ash. She flew to the four horizons and stopped in the pit of Xi'an. She settled on Ah-Tun Chi's lips. He was now guarding, with his terracotta smile, a SF love story.
Yuka Brevi
Depressed, in one evening, I take the car and drive without direction. I get out of the crowded city, I arrive in front of high gates. I go in. I reluctantly sit down at a table in a modest place, with paper lanterns and red dragons on the walls. Lee something-or-other. He immediately sees the sadness on my face and brings me a sweet blue tea. I drink it all and, suddenly, I feel small, very small. Lee, look! A big, white mountain. It's just a grain of rice. Lee, what's this black thing? A stupid fly. Avoid it, nín, he tells me with good intentions.
(Translated by Eliza Radu / 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.