The baloney is no longer what it used to be, neither are whores nor agriculture nor the peasant, and neither am I. The Apocalypse is nothing compared to what I have seen in the past years. I live in institutionalized prostitution, and when I take a breath, I do it through hiccups. The hiccup is no longer what it used to be, nor is sobbing, or longing. Longing for what? Or for whom? I declare myself to be null, you get me? I get you, of course, but I believe that this is all about a bad day. How long has it been since you got your treatment? You'll answer me next time. The meeting is done for today. Next.
(Translated by Adelina-Maria Mănăilescu / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by prof. dr. Nadina Vișan / Edited 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 December 2022, the group has 9,880 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. 
