Perhaps the requiem I was listening to aroused her to take out her temptingly white arms. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her over me barely breathing under the thick stale amber scent of curls that flooded my face.I let myself get crushed beneath the mountains and waves, sipping air from her lips, tracing the flesh of the music with my hands to the rhythm of her breasts, penetrating her. It was so dark, but she didn't blink, she just flickered with pleasure biting my neck. Flustered, I climaxed, she ducked back under the bed, gently saying, see you tomorrow.
(Translated by Raluca Ioana Crucerescu / 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. 
