You're broken, you've screamed when you found out that we won't have children. I should have smashed that vase from your mother in your head , but I cooked you soup instead. And you've cried. I gathered the salt from your tears and kept it in a velvet box. Once a month, I used to take the life credit card and build salt bars with it. I was rolling a paper which I used to inhale your sorrow with. My love, you're sterile, my pelvis whispered while I was wiping the white from my nose in grief. Two dilated pupils embrace. Infinitely.
(Translated by Liliana Popescu / 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. 
