In summer, we used to build pointy houses on the grass, in between apple trees and cherry plum trees, using blankets, stones and clothespins. The kitchen was high above, among the branches. From it, sweet-and-sour fruits ripened for us by the master chef-Sun would fall. The stew made of sand, clover leaves and rose petals, and produced through a great deal of kneading, was for the dolls. When all the stars would light up properly, it was a sign that we needed to go to bed. One summer, the Childhood melted, perhaps in the Sun too. Orphaned of it, we haven't built anything anymore.
(Translated by Ecaterina Bucovanu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / 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 September 2022, the group has 9,250 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. 
