What do you mean. Why don't you bury him? Is he dead? He is. Dead as I've ever seen him. The shard raises an eyebrow. All I asked you for was the paper from City Hall to confirm it. The man blushed. What paper? We can all see he's dead. Sir, every dead man has his file. You need another paper. Period. Rumbling, with all the entourage behind him, the man left for City Hall. Two hours later, he ran triumphantly with the paper to the undertaker. Is that it? Yes, but it's not stamped. You know what, my
father-in-law is dead. We don't need him anymore. We'll leave him here. A gift.
(Translated by Carla-Marina Ștefănescu / 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 March 2022, the group has 8,050 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. 
