She shook my hand boyishly, and the backpack fell off hershoulder, heavy. Where to? She blew her bangs from her eyes and the air turned green. To Paris. I'm becoming a painter. The trees rush past the train, I would count them as I did in my childhood, but instead I look at her in my attic in Montmartre, in my loose T-shirt, on which she wipes her brushes, while she shouts I love you, boy, and Paris becomes a train car, with trees rushing at the windows. Nice to meet you, Otti. Me too, to Paris.
(Translated by Andreea Denisa Dinu / 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. 
