With their pain reflected in the
mirror-eye, they rushed at each other, two famished, vicious wolves, they tore everything apart out of need and pure pleasure, they destroyed everything in their way. The bed sheets were flooded with the memory of a forgotten love, the empty cups of those languorous mornings, the paintings depicting happiness became carcases in their wake. And when the house, fed up with them, spat them outside, their howls died away beneath the freshly fallen snow. On their closed eyelids, the white flakes relentlessly ended their dance.
(Translated by Cristina Stan / 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 February 2022, the group has 7,950 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. 
