Dana Popescu
For every day you didn't see the sun, overwhelmed by work, you earn a coin. For every day you didn't hug or play with your child and instead only asked whether he did his homework, you earn two. Another two for every day in which you chose to stay home, declining your friends' invitations, and three for every night you went to bed alone, because you were too tired. If, in the end, I'm rich, why do I feel cheated? asked the old woman weakly. I'll give you double that, if you would give me my days back.
Iulia Stavre
His second home, the place with which he had a special bond. The fresh colors brought him closer to nature, the smells challenged him, the tastes gave him ideas. He got his lifeblood from their stories and jokes. He found his inspiration. The spectacular combinations in the restaurant's plates brought him a star. Quince stew is a delicacy, a middle-woman once told him. Want some? She offered him a piece of fruit. The yellow aromas of autumn took hold of him forever. The first responders don't know about German maneuvers. The CPR was for naught.
Alexandru Valentin Năstase
It smelled like death and it stunk of corpses terribly. It seems as if the world's foulest things gathered in a single place. There were enough leftovers, filth, cinders and dirt for the whole world. The rats and bugs thrived, looking surprised at the soulless humans, who roamed aimlessly among them. They fought for whatever was left, for the curse that is survival. After the garbage truck came by, all that was left behind the market was sadness, naked corpses, hunger and fractured destinies.
(Translated by Adriana-Maria Botea / 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.