I met him on a frosty night in a seedy bar in a forgotten train station. He was sitting at a table, alone, smoking and waiting for his vodka. With plenty of time to catch the next train, I approached through the heavy clouds of smoke, thinking of talking to him. Hi, can I stay? He looked up in fright, let out a short shriek, and slapped his knee.Come on. He hugged me up, swinging me on his leg from then on, holding me tight. It could have been niphilim, but it helps me write this shit.
(Translated by Georgiana Carmen Rădulescu / 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. 
