Not the rural one, grains, pigeons, little mice, where I climbed only to have the cat hunt and found her hanging from the bacon. There the charm was more endearing. I'm talking about the urban one where I read Velerim and Steel Flower dreaming of flying. I was fascinated by the hatch opening to the giant bough of the walnut tree that lifted me like the beanstalk did Jack, and then I was Tarzan the Ape Man. The walnuts turned coppery and their bitter core sweeter. I ground last year's to splinters. The house wall supported an early grapevine. School would soon start.
(Translated by Ioana Ștefan / 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. 
