The priest keeps hitting me with his shamanic basil. What the hell, it's not the Epiphany. My mother is crying. She is praying. They're not leaving my room. They start screaming letters and words, waiting for the Devil to come out. Man, you wet my computer and I still have to pay for it. My mother discards the diary she had found and the priest is jumping on it. The Devil is still silent. He is staying hidden in Bruckner's ass, writing
Bitter Moon. Day 256 drowns agonizing in the scatological passions of the character I had chosen to write about in the first person. Just to understand it. Shitty, really.
(Translated by Roberta Ana-Maria Gulerez / 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 May 2022, the group has 8,350 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. 
