I take off my clothes and words and go outside. Cherries blossomed on either side of the careless streets. The road with cubic stone scales struggles like a snake with its head cut off. Or maybe just hidden in the fog from which we feed our sleep. The sun gently projects the warm light in search of the culprits of helplessness. A knot goes up my throat, I cough, I choke. And black words gush from me, float in the warm air and fall on the dusty sidewalks like dead birds before they learn to fly.
(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. 
