In front of Ion Iliescu's mausoleum stands his majesty, Ion Iliescu himself. He wanted to save up some more money for a veneer. Even the cryogenic pipes weren't working properly, this motherfucking mayor cut the cooler. He didn't earn much, who was taking pictures of the great leader of antiquity now? A few more crazy pensioners gave him glances exercised from Pornhub, but he no longer saw well enough to turn him on. At night in the mausoleum it was too hot, He would come out, singing from the balalaika.
(Translated by Denisa Dărăban / 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 November 2021, the group has 7.500 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. 
