My monster hasn't hung out with other monsters since yesterday. On their Tinder no one is interested in it today because its darkness is faded, so it's kicking it toxic. He whines under the bed while I pretend not to hear his need for attention.Tell me, baby, what do you want? How can I make you happy, I ask him, visibly uninterested. Iwant at least you to hold me in your arms,he replied to myconscious and unconscious disgust.I don't do stuff like this, I replied, patting him monotonously on the shoulder. We have an admittedly dysfunctional relationship.
(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. 
