People without a unicorn probably have a sad face, somehow, and Marita felt sorry for me because otherwise I can't explain how she agreed to lend me her unicorn, which she received as a gift from her uncle in America. I hate the feeling of pity. It should be banned. She's been with me for a week now and I called her because I'm not giving her back so I can die. The unicorn, I say. Now it's flying on my brain on which I planted green grass. And it's annoying. Happy. I see Marita crossing the road. That's right, this isn't the first time I've died. Come on. Diii.
(Translated by Laura-Elena Dobrin / 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 June 2022, the group has 8,500 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. 
