You stank and your grin began to grow until it stuck sticky to my cheek and I hated that white cheek and my heart too small and my body too clean, stop, I begged you in my mind, yes, I love you, but not like that, not now, no. How warm and good was the dust I clung to, then, trembling and waiting for it to completely hide me. But it didn't want me, it swallowed my tears and left me in hatred. I was just a kid and you, my grandfather, for goodness' sake. This is he? the coroner asked me. No, I don't know him.
(Translated by Elena Creţu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)Real Fiction is a collective project started in 2013 by Florin Piersic Jr. The concept of Real Fiction continued to exist as a Facebook group, after a volume of stories was published at Humanitas Publishing House. (In April 2021, the group has 5.600 members.) The authors write ultra-short stories, with the texts limited to 500 characters (in Romanian, so the length of the English translation might be a little different) - a flash-fiction exercise on a topic that changes every few days. The group's coordinators are Florin Piersic Jr., Gabriel Molnar, Răzvan Penescu, and Luchian Abel. (Drawing by Adrian T. Roman)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficţiuni Reale. 
