A withered lime tree, him. A budding flower that simply refuses to pass, her. Tired and sad just like a house without a decorated Christmas tree, him. Tired by slapping life is giving him, exhausted from the same daily menu and strangled by his own helplessness, he would have been lying on the couch for hours with a book in his hand. She whirls her alley with wanderlust, small steps on big continents, her. I want to, but I don't have anyone anymore, her. I want to, but I can't, him. Now, her. Maybe tomorrow, my dear, him. Her mind and her body, what a strange duo.
(Translated by Medeea Alexandra Stan / 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 January 2022, the group has 7.830 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. 
