Elena Fermuș
They met at the seaside. Two wandering tourists. They shook hands. She, delicate with skin like milk. He, the chocolate boy. Opposites attract; it was love at first touch. Then there was a wedding and a baptism. In his country. It felt like heaven to her. But soon, her heaven turned into hell. There was an accident, and there was a funeral. And she left. There was no reason to stay anymore. She took her chocolate princess in her arms and returned to her village with white people. She fought with everyone so that her little girl would no longer be seen as a freak.
Aurelian Țolescu
I couldn't understand, no matter how hard I tried, why my little grandson, who was one year and two months old, always cheerful and playful, started crying, screaming, and rolling around when we arrived in the room at the seaside, in Eforie Nord. I couldn't get along with him, he wouldn't eat, he didn't want to go outside to play, he rejected everything. He cried and trembled. All night he sobbed and sighed. In the morning, I realized that the furniture in the room was completely white and that recently, the little one had been hospitalized where he had been given injections. We changed the hotel.
Tina Dublea
I know from a reliable source, because I saw with my own eyes, in someone else's eyes, that heaven is blue, no doubt about it. Purgatory must be purple because that's where you purify, right? And if you haven't seen purple and violet flames by now, I hope I don't have red hair on my head anymore and you should schedule an eye exam. But the hell of the inferno can only be rainbow-colored, that's what someone would tell you whose brain, if we assume it exists, would be smooth, immaculate, a tabula rasa of infinite expanse.
(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.