He felt her body with the tips of his fingers, like a warm breeze that woke up her breathing. It almost didn't resemble a touch, but a hunch. He already knew which parts of her body wore the scars of past traumas, and those parts he would only touch with his warm breath. Close your eyes, he said, and tell me what you feel. I feel my skin shivering. Vibrating. Memories are throbbing. Memories, what kind? Of every kind. From long ago. Let them be. What happened will live on forever. Let them go. There's a lump in my throat. I'm crying. I give myself permission to cry.
(Translated by Cristina-Bianca Ion / 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 December 2021, the group has 7.750 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. 
