Fuck me. He should have bought something else with his last money, he thought as he was shitting himself as if he had turned on the tap of the fountain in the backyard. He had been eating badly ever since she died anyway. He sat up to clean it, everything about him was white-yellow. He was exhausted and the smell would take your breath away. A stomach-ache made him grimace and in that very moment his dentures slipped and fell down in the shit. Fuck me. He bent over to take it back, but he got dizzy. He fell with a dead sound over the hard bowl. Even the postman, who came the next day to bring his retiring pension, thought he left away.

(Translated by Diana-Maria Croitoru / 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.

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