We only saw each other at night. Two blocks away, ground floor. I would sneak around any nook and cranny, I would bang on the window and be slipped right in. We made love quietly, to not wake up the mother. Other times we would go behind the block, and do whatever we felt like, near the dumpsters. If I wasn't sent home before I pulled up my panties I would have been convinced it was love. It stopped all of a sudden. Rented a place somewhere in Militari. I never got to say everything. Two years later, I feel alien to the woman I was during those times. I can finally breathe.
(Translated by Jin Cristian Yang / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / 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 September 2021, the group has 7.150 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 Ficțiuni Reale. 
