I loved my family. Not outward with hugs and kisses, they weren't the type. They loved me, mom handed out slaps, dad belt whipping, and my brother, punches. That built my character. Then I loved women. Not as many as I would've wanted, but as many as I could get; a new one would always sprout up after an old one, locking away one piece of my heart and unlocking another. And I was loved by all of them, even though I betrayed them, one by one. Now, opening my heart up to judgement, I realise that I still love all of them. Is that illegal? You throw the first stone.
(Translated by Bianca-Maria Ciucașu / 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 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. 
