Fuck, he shouted in anger, demisting his glasses with his knife. Pulled to his chest like a cigarette, the air was gray and heavy as an ore. He instantly emptied his lungs directly onto the sidewalk. He had two spare, white, impermeable ones, filled in the morning in the machine in the yard of the Institute for the suppressionofnontransmissiblelifeforms. Turn on the pyrolytic cleaning module and sigh in trouble: I've reached RAPPS Street, I need to check. Dude, it sounds short to the
nano-oboe and a weak hand cracks the door. What are you doing, darling?
(Translated by Emilia-Georgiana Călinescu / 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. 
