The hospital wards hurt me, waiting for my mom, my dad, my family, your family to get out of the surgery room. Sometimes they didn't survive, God bless their souls. The births of life hurt me, waiting to go through pain until I could hear the screams of the newborns. Then otitis, polyps, quarrels, teeth, other pains, other expectations. I was online all night until I heard my American nephew's cry, a quarter of my blood. I have taken my nation for two generations, what can I expect? Whisper of voices, above the grave.
(Translated by Ana Spînu / 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. 
