She kept his head on her lap. That's where she'd weave stories for him, tie them behind the cortex and roll them into a ball of dreams. His nostrils were dilating, receiving the smell of smokes, mold and sex. He traced her fleshy hip line with his revolver, went all the way up to where the sun sets, positioned himself on top of her, with the cold and erect barrel that was swallowing her left nipple, as stiff as death. You gave yourself to everyone? You sucked all of them off? Licked their convolutions? You're a pigsty of desire. I was a fool. And the bullet passed through her, with life between its teeth.
(Translated by Ana Stănilă / 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 October 2021, the group has 7.275 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. 
