Today, December 20
th, 2073, I flew over the hot city. I thought I'd cool off a little while flying. Ah! It's good that my bones help me. Yet. At least they stay together. I was floating nicely, I can't lie, but until you enjoy the fullness of the whole that doesn't fit in your chest anymore, you flutter your wings like crazy. Ever since the sun was so close to my bald spot I sewed my arms, with red thread, thousands of moments apart until they became a whole: the left wing and the right wing, my memory. In a month I will be 98.
(Translated by Carla-Marina Ştefănescu / 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 June 2021, the group has 6.650 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. 
